


From Eden

by smile_it_will_get_better



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Eddie is too, Eventual Happy Ending, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Idiots in Love, M/M, Married Couple, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Richie and Eddie left Derry together, Stan Uris is alive, it's a full fix it fic now boys, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 16:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smile_it_will_get_better/pseuds/smile_it_will_get_better
Summary: He wasn’t leaving town without Eddie, even if he had to pack his smaller friend into a suitcase in order to smuggle him out....When Richie leaves Derry, he takes his best friend with him. By the time they get called back to face Pennywise again, the two of them are happily married.





	1. There's Something Magic About You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing this fandom but I've seen this idea a few times and wanted to put my spin on it. This chapter is mostly me setting this whole thing up, but I promise it will get more interesting.

“Are we ever going to leave Derry?” Eddie asked one day. Bev and Richie looked up at him, the only other losers in the clubhouse that moment. All the others were out either studying like losers or otherwise preoccupied. He was pretty sure the question came from Bev mentioning Ben sending in his college applications. 

Like normal, Richie and Eddie sat on the same hammock, squished together on the tight space because neither were willing to compromise when it came to this. 

And maybe Richie liked it when Eddie got annoyed, with his cute scrunched up face and red cheeks. Maybe he liked it when Eddie jumped onto the hammock with him, their bodies slotted together sharing heat. 

“Of course we’re leaving this fucking town,” Richie said without hesitation, his eyes looking up to linger on Eddie’s face. Eddie’s eyes haven’t left the comic he was reading, in fact, he was staring it with an intensity that Richie couldn’t quite place. 

“Yeah,” Bev said, her voice soft. “As soon as we can Eddie, you know that.” 

Eddie made a soft humming noise, turning the page even though Richie knew he hadn’t read a single fucking word of what was in front of him. 

“What are you thinking of Bev?” Eddie asked casually, flipping another page for some reason. 

“My aunt and I are thinking of moving away soon,” She said. “I want to go to college, but not sure what for exactly.” 

Eddie nodded slowly, the space between his eyes scrunching up in what almost looked like an attempt to stop himself from crying, and Richie couldn’t shake off the wrongness in Eddie’s posture. Eddie had been acting weird lately, ever since school had been coming to an end and everyone was talking about what colleges they wanted to go to or what cities they wanted to move to.

“What about you Rich?” 

Richie blinked, Eddie’s voice snapping him out of his musing. He realized Eddie had finally looked up, catching Richie staring at him and despite himself he felt a bright red blush heating up his cheeks, so he quickly looked away, his eyes falling to Beverly, who was smirking like she knew something he didn’t. 

“I just want to get out of this fucking town,” Richie sighed, finally deciding to stare up at the ceiling. “Anywhere is better than here.” 

“You can say that again,” Beverly snorted, and the smoky smell of cigarettes filled the room in the telltale sign that Beverly had started smoking. “Derry is the worst.” 

For a hot minute, the only sound filling the room was the methodically flipping of comic pages, the small puff of Beverly’s exhale, and the soft creak of the hammock swinging from side to side. 

Then Eddie spoke up again. 

“I don’t I’ll be able to leave.” 

Richie startled enough that the hammock swung hazardously, and somehow Eddie didn’t snap at him, calling him an asshole among other things. The other boy was silent, his eyes steadily staring at the page. 

Richie noticed the pale quality of his skin, the bags under his eyes, the thin jutting bones of his wrist. He had noticed these before of course, but he never worried about them, passing them off as one of Eddie’s weird habits. But under the soft and spotty lighting in the clubhouse, it seemed more pronounced just how dead his best friend looked. 

He was still beautiful, of course he was. No matter how hard Richie tried, he never could think of Eddie as anything other than beautiful. But that was stupid of course, because he was his best friend. 

“What do you mean you’re not leaving?” Beverly asked, laughing slightly but Richie could hear the concern hidden behind it. “You want to stay here?” 

“I never said I didn’t want to leave,” Eddie snapped, harsh even for him. “I said I couldn’t.” 

“Your mom?” Bev whispered; her voice gentle. Richie knew he should say something, but he was too busy trying to process everything. 

The thought of Eddi never leaving this town scared him. The thought of Eddie staying here with his mom who smothered him to the point of mental breakdowns, of Eddie staying with the people who mocked him, belittled him. The thought of Eddie staying here while Richie went away. 

He couldn’t imagine leaving town without Eddie. 

“She’s been getting worse,” Eddie said, sighing and putting the comic down, rubbing his eyes. “She wants me to try and get a job at the fucking pharmacy.” 

“I can try to talk her out of it when I see her tonight, but we might be otherwise occupied so I might forget.” He blurted out, despite knowing this was the worst time for one of his mother fucking jokes. 

Sure enough, Bev shot him a look of pure fire, but somehow Eddie only snorted, shaking his head and kicking Richie int eh face. 

“Asshole,” He muttered, but Richie noticed some of the tenseness leaving his shoulder, so Richie considered it a win. 

He continued on, poking fun at Eddie until the two of them were half fighting on the hammock, a mess of legs attempting to smack the others face, but inside he couldn’t help but make himself a promise. 

He wasn’t leaving town without Eddie, even if he had to pack his smaller friend into a suitcase in order to smuggle him out. 

___________________________________________

He isn’t sure why he said it, when they sat outside Eddie’s house, neither wanting to go inside. 

They had started this ritual years ago, when Eddie was too scared to walk home by himself in the dark, forcing Richie to go with him. It had stuck, and even four years later they still walked home together, sometimes talking, sometimes not. This was one of the nights they didn’t, both lost in their thoughts until they got there. 

Richie loved talking; anyone could tell you that. He loved to fill the nothingness in the air with sound, lighting up the air with his words. But he enjoyed basking in the silence with Eddie. He never felt pressured to talk when he was around, and found that the two of them could sometimes sit in silence, and Richie wouldn’t feel the need to say a thing. 

This wasn’t one of these nights. 

He wasn’t not talking because he didn’t feel like it, he wasn’t talking because he was thinking. 

He couldn’t stop thinking of how sad Eddie’s face looked in the light of the clubhouse when he said he didn’t think he would be able to leave. He couldn’t stop thinking how over the past few weeks Eddie had changed, had become more withdrawn, more prone to silence than his normal energetic rants. Richie can’t help but think that somehow his best friend was pulling away and he was simply letting it happen. 

And yet he still wasn’t fully sure why he said it, but he did anyway. 

“You should come with me,” He blurted out, pointedly staring at the front of Eddie’s house instead of the look of shock that was probably written on his best friend’s face. “Out of here, I mean.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Eddie said, and yet his voice held no bite. 

“I’m leaving,” Richie admitted, finally turning to face Eddie. His face was unreadable in the dark, and Richie wanted to move closer, to demand that Eddie tell him what he was thinking. “When schools out. I have a plan to go to LA. Try and get my career going.” 

“Why haven’t you told me before this?” Eddie asked, and Richie could hear some hurt buried deep inside the tone. School was ending in just under tow weeks. Richie already had his bags packed and ready to go. 

“I didn’t want to upset you,” Richie admitted, looking away again. 

“Well you failed at that you asshole,” Eddie said with a laugh, sounding only a touch hysterical. His voice was strained, and Richie was half worried he was going to need his inhaler. But Eddie was getting better at not needing it, and soon he had his breathing under control again. “Fuck, I have like two weeks longer to spend with you and I didn’t even know it.” 

Richie could already tell Eddie was still spiraling, so he tried his best to fix it. Or something like fixing it. 

“But you can come with me,” He stressed. “We can go to LA and you can go get your medical degree or some shit, and we can live in the same apartment so I can drive you fucking crazy and you can tell me how shitty my jokes are.” 

He was rambling, they both knew it. But the more he talked, the more the picture inside his head formed. A part of him had been preparing himself to leave Eddie, leave all of them really, but the thought of leaving Eddie was the worst for some reason he refused to think about. But he had found a way around it, a way to make sure that he never had to leave Eddie in this shithole of a town. 

They could go together, the two of them against the world just like how it always was. Sure, the rest of the losers were always there, but in reality, Richie had always been closer to Eddie. 

It was Eddie and Richie, Richie and Eddie. The two of them surviving and dealing with the horrors of the world together. And now they could continue that, and Richie never had to live with not being able to see Eddie. 

“Rich,” Eddie sighed, turning to him, his arms crossed and his shoulders hunched. He was probably freezing, Richie wished he had a jacket to give him. Anything to get him form shaking so pathetically. He wondered if Eddie would let him rub his hands over his arms to try and put some heat into it. “I don’t know.” 

“Would you rather stay here?” Richie asked, sweeping his arms up to gesture to the town around them. “You want to crawl back into that house and roll over for your mom and pop whatever pills she shoved into your mouth?” 

Eddie frowns, his nose scrunching up and he almost looks like he's pouting and dear god Richie finds it to be the cutest thing ever. 

“No,” Eddie finally admits, his shoulders falling. “For once in your useless life your right.” 

“Sorry, what was that?” Richie asked, a grin creeping up on his face. “I might need you to say that again so I can record that.” 

“Beep Beep asshole,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh you love me,” Richie cackled, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” Eddie said, and Richie’s heart stopped in his chest for a full ten seconds, like his entire body short-circuited at that one simple word. 

“So you’ll come with me?” He says after a moment, still feeling slightly out of breath. 

“I guess I will,” Eddie giggles, and he wants to bottle the sound. “Fuck Rich, I guess I am.” 

“Awesome sauce,” Richie said, shooting him two finger guns. “Pack your bags Eds, we are going on a road trip in t minus two weeks!” He turns around, unable to hide his smile and he practically skips away. 

“Don’t call me that!” Eddie yells after him, but all that does is make the smile grow larger in his mouth. 

________________________________________

Two weeks later they walked the stage, and after a night celebrating with the other Losers, Richie almost regrets having to say goodbye. 

Bill hugs him tightly, stuttering in his ear while telling him not to do anything stupid. Stan is similar, but his smile is softer, and they exchange numbers, because Stan is his other best friend and a part of Richie hates leaving him behind, even if he knows Stan is leaving in a couple of weeks too. 

Ben hugs him, and says they need to keep in contact. Mike tells him not to starve while in LA and makes him promise to phone at least once every month. Bev hugs him tightly, winking at him and wagging his eyebrows while her eyes dart over his shoulder to Eddie. 

The two of them haven’t said they were leaving together, but Richie knew that it wouldn’t be hard to put together. Since, you know, they were leaving on the same night. 

He smacks her shoulder, and she wishes him good luck, passing him her cigarette for one last smoke between friends. 

Then they're gone, and as Richie drives out of the town, Eddie strapped into the passenger seat, he can help but finally feel free. 

Free of the nightmares that woke him up weekly, free of the dark cloud surrounding the town, free of the heaviness weighing him down. 

He glances over to Eddie, who had already fallen asleep despite it only being like midnight, and he smiles. 

He had no clue where to go from here, but he was free and he had his best friend by his side. 

He would figure it out. 

________________________________

The bar was dimly lit, the chatter of voices and the pounding of music filling the air, loud clinks of glasses hitting each other pulling Richie’s attention every way. 

Eddie was walking in front of him, his wide eyes wandering around, his skin glowing in the almost red-colored lighting. 

“It’s loud as fuck in here,” Eddie complained, turning to look at Richie, who is taken aback for a moment with how stunning Eddie looks at the moment. But he shakes his head and focuses on the task in front of him. 

“Lindsay said she would be by the back,” He said instead of answering Eddie’s observation. “If the fucker showed up that is.” 

“You have such affectionate ways of referring to our friends,” Eddie deadpanned, walking forwards again. 

“Awe,” Richie cooed. “You know I love her anyway, even if she is a fucker.” 

Eddie snorted, and then suddenly someone was pushing his way in between the two of them, his shoulder knocking into Richie’s, sending him stumbling back a step. He couldn’t see Eddie at the moment, and he groaned, once again marveling at how small his friend was. 

He looked around, and suddenly something was grabbing onto his hand, and he followed the arm back up to Eddie's face, the man in question holding an annoyed look on his face. 

“I think I need to put a leash on you,” Eddie grumbled, not letting go of his hand as he tugs him through the thickening crowd again. 

“Kinky,” Richie teased, in order to pretend that he wasn’t having a crisis just by holding Eddie’s hand. They were rough, calloused and firm but small, pathetically small in his hand. 

It had been a year since they moved from their hometown, which he can’t remember the name of for some reason, and Richie knew that he was hopelessly in love with his friend. 

He wasn’t sure how long it’s been, in fact, any of his previous memories of Eddie were a bit blurry, but Richie knew that he had always loved him. 

And how fucked was that? Falling in love with your best friend. He tried to cover up his feelings with multiple girlfriends and one-night stands. But he couldn’t quash the fluttering feeling he got when he saw Eddie. He couldn’t ignore that he found Eddie’s laugh so much more beautiful than any other girls. 

But he did his best, because he was like 80% sure that Eddie didn’t think of him in that way and one thing Richie was not about to do was jeopardize their friendship. He would rather drown in repression than lose Eddie. 

They were meeting their friend Lindsay, who for some reason wanted to meet them in the middle of the town's busiest bar. Eddie continued to tug him further in the back, their hands clasped tightly together and Richie really hopped his hands weren’t sweaty. How embarrassing would that be? 

They finally spotted Lindsay in the back, taking a shot while she talked to her current boyfriend, who Richie personally thought was a huge D-bag. 

“Rich!” She cried when she saw them. “Eddie! Fancy meeting you here.” 

“You literally invited us here,” Eddie said, dropping Richie’s hand and he tried not to miss the contact. 

“Don’t be so literal.” She said, waving a hand. “Sit down you guys!” 

They did, taking the seat opposite to the two lovebirds. 

“This place is wonderful isn’t it?” She asked, leaning closer to them and practically shouting in order to be heard. 

“This place is probably crawling with disease.” Eddie sniffed, looking around. “I’m pretty sure I saw at least two dead people.” 

“Lighten up Eds,” Richie laughed, slapping his best friends’ shoulder. “I love this place.” 

“Of course you do,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “It’s just as disgusting as you asshole.” 

“I’m hurt!” Richie cried out, a hand resting over his head. “You wound me Eds.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie grumbled, but Richie ignored him. 

“So,” He said to the other two. “Why are we here today? Celebrating a birthday? An engagement? Are you preggers?” 

“Shut up Rich,” Lindsay rolled her eyes. “You know we’re here to celebrate your first booking.” 

“Oh!” He cried, laughing. “That little thing?” 

“Don’t be so modest,” She groaned. “It took you forever in order to get this deal, we might as well celebrate.” 

“I mean, it is pretty great I guess.” Richie shrugged in false modestly, shooting a wink at Eddie. “I guess I’m a star now.” 

“Oh god,” Eddie groaned. “You're letting this get to his head Linds, what are you doing?” 

They laughed about it, all grabbing a shot glass and raising it into the air. 

“To Richie!” Lindsay said. 

“For him finally getting his shit together so he can help pay the bills,” Eddie teased, and Richie blew him a kiss before they all downed the drinks. 

The night progressed easily, the four of them chatting easily and drinking until they were all drunk. 

Lindsay and the boyfriend started making out, eventually stumbling off to the dancefloor and leaving Eddie and him alone. Richie didn’t really mind. 

He was happy. 

It took him almost three years, three long years of working off jobs and booking any venues he could to gain attention, but he had finally gotten the attention of a fairly big agent, who hooked him up with some petty big dates. If this went well he could actually gain attention for his career to launch, he could literally become a professional comedian. Which was huge for him. 

Eddie was on his third year of his bachelor's degree in finances, which was probably the most boring thing Richie had ever heard. He wanted to become a risk analyst, which again, boring, but he was also currently working in a big-time cab driving agency, and he had literally driven around major celebrities more than once. 

In fact, that was how Richie had gotten the job he had. Eddie had given a big shot agent a ride, and when the same dude saw Eddie at one of Richie’s smaller shows, he had actually stayed to listen to the show, which he somehow actually enjoyed. Next thing Richie knew, he had signed a five-performance deal. 

Things were actually looking up, and he was drunk as fuck. 

He smiled over at Eddie, who was also pretty much out of it. 

“Did you ever think we’d get here Spaghetti?” He asked, cutting Eddie’s rambled story off. 

“Nope,” Eddie replied, popping the p. “Never thought you’d actually do anything in life.” 

“Ouch,” Richie laughed. “I’ll go fuck myself I guess.” 

Eddie giggled, punching Richie’s shoulder lightly. 

“I’m kidding you dick,” He said. “I’m proud of you fuck face.” 

“You think we would have thought this possible ten years ago?” Richie sighed his head resting against the wall behind him. 

“Did I know you ten years ago?” Eddie asked. 

Richie’s first instinct was to say yes, the word at the tip of his tongue, but then he really thought of it. 

Did he know Eddie ten years ago? His memory was foggy, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just because of the ridiculous amount of alcohol he drank. 

He hadn’t thought much of the past since they left. Hell, he couldn’t remember much about his past at all. 

If he focused hard enough, he remembered brown eyes staring at him, a soft smile, a group of people laughing with him, fear. 

But they were all just whips in the back of his mind, distant memories blurred from his mind. He never thought about it, was never concerned about the fact that he couldn’t remember things most people could his past. 

He knew he knew Eddie from before. Knew they left together, but how long had they known each other? Why couldn’t Richie picture Eddie any younger? 

“How did we meet?” Richie asked, turning to his best friend, who looked just as confused. 

“I don’t know,” Eddie hummed. “Are we that drunk?” 

“No,” Richie denied. Then he thought about it. “Well yes actually, but I don’t think that’s it.” 

“Weird,” Eddie said, reaching for his drink and taking a sip. “I don’t remember anything about my past.” 

“We don’t need to,” Richie found himself saying, staring intensely at Eddie. Eddie looked over at him, those brown eyes wide and innocent, his cheeks blushed red from the alcohol. He looked truly handsome, sitting against the dark wall, the poor lighting bouncing off his cheeks. His lips were full and pink, slightly wet from the drink he just took a sip from. 

Richie wanted to kiss him. 

“We don’t need to remember,” He repeated, a surge of confidence rising in him. He must have had way too much to drink. “I don’t care if I don’t remember meeting you Eds, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re my best friend. I could remember a hundred years with you or only one, and you’ll still be my Eds.” 

Eddie was silent for a long moment, his eyes flickering over Richie’s face and down to his lips. 

Then, before Richie could even think to react in any way, Eddie was leaning forwards, their lips crashing together messily. 

It was everything Richie had ever dreamed of. 

Eddie tasted like cheap beer and breath mints, his lips chapped and ripped from how he was always biting at them but Richie really didn’t mind. 

His hand reached up, cupping Eddie’s soft cheek in his hand as he kissed back, and he swore he saw fireworks go off behind his eyes. 

He had dreamed of kissing Eddie since even before he could remember, had fantasized about how perfectly their lips would fit together, how perfect Eddie would feel pressed against him. The reality of the situation did not live those down. 

They pulled away after a long moment, both of them panting slightly and he stared into Eddie’s eyes, his pupils blown wide. 

“Fuck,” Richie whispered, as elegant as always. 

Eddie laughed, his forehead leaning forwards to press together. 

“Fuck,” He agreed. 

“We should have done that a lot sooner.” Richie laughed, his hand moving to cup the back of Eddie’s neck, his fingers tangling in the slightly wild curls back there. He needed a haircut. 

“No shit,” Eddie replied, pulling back and pressing their lips together chastely. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.” 

“Really?” Richie asked, his voice louder than he wanted. “Me too!” 

They stared at each other for a long moment before they burst into laughter, pulling away from each other because they were laughing too hard. 

Richie felt like he was going to overflow with giddiness, and a part of him knows that this was a moment long overdue, a moment that he had waited for almost his entire life. 

He didn’t quite remember a lot about his past, but he knew that he has always been in love with Eddie Kaspbrak.

________________________________________________

“Eddie!” Richie called out into their house. “I’m home!” 

“No shit!” Came Eddie’s answering call, and a few seconds later his boyfriend came meandering out of their bedroom, leaning against the wall. “How was the meeting?” 

“It was wonderful,” Richie said, throwing his jacket to the ground, which Eddie picked up seconds later. “My next show is sold out; the people love me.” 

“I’d be more impressed if you wrote your own jokes,” Eddie told him, and Richie groaned, his head thrown back as he launched himself onto the couch.

“I get it,” He sighed. “I am the worst, we know that.” 

“I never said that,” Eddie said from somewhere behind him. “I just said the jokes you tell suck.” 

“Because I don’t write them?” Richie said hopefully. 

“No, cause you aren’t funny dickhead,” Eddie replied, but Richie heard the affection in his voice. 

“Oh you love me,” Richie snorted, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“I do,” Eddie said, a lot closer and Richie’s eyes cracked open to see his boyfriend hanging over top of him, smiling softly. Eddie leaned down, their lips pressing tougher and Richie smiled into the kiss. He never grew bored of kissing Eddie. “It’s our seventh year in a week, you planning something special?”

“I am,” Richie said, despite knowing he had nothing planned. “You're going to love it.” 

A week later they were out at dinner, Eddie’s favorite expensive restaurant. 

Richie couldn’t believe that they had only been dating for seven years. He was 28 years old, and his career was thriving. Soon enough Richie Tozier was going to be a household name, and he was booking dates everywhere, even planning for a worldwide tour within a few years. 

Eddie worked at some insurance business, still working as a cabbie driver on the side. They were happy, rich, and thriving. 

Richie had everything he could have ever dreamed of, and honestly, he was sure that nothing could bring him down at this point. 

“We should go for a walk,” Richie proposed after they paid and were walking home. 

Eddie looked over at him with an annoyed look in his eyes. 

“It’s like 11:00 pm Rich,” He said, their hands tangling together. 

“So?” Richie scoffed. “We’re adults.” 

Eddie laughed, and Richie smacked his shoulder but couldn’t help his own smile from surfacing. 

They walked for a while, finding a park and aimlessly wandering around, rambling about everything and nothing. 

Eddie talked about his job, and Richie paid attention despite finding nothing entertaining about it at all. It was worth it to see the excited look in Eddie’s eyes, see his smile when he was talking about the most recent customer he drove. 

They got to where Richie placed his surprise, and they stopped in front of a small pond. Richie couldn’t help but feel nervous as he shifted from foot to foot. 

“Close your eyes Eds,” He said, and Eddie raised an eyebrow but entertained him, his eyes fluttering shut. 

Richie darted to the side, pulling out his surprise and grinning down at it. He walked back in front of Eddie, holding the gift in his hands. 

“Okay,” He said. “Open them.” 

Eddie’s eyes flew open, and he stared at Richie in shock. 

“Is that a fucking dog?” Eddie asked. 

Richie looked down at the little Pomeranian puppy in his hands, the adorable little thing with brown puffy fur and the cutest little eyes. 

“Uh, yeah.” He said, as if it was obvious. 

“You bought me a dog?” Eddie asked. 

“Surprise?” Richie asked, trying to grin but it came out more like a please-don’t-kill-me look. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Eddie said, and then he was laughing, reaching out and pulling the puppy from Richie’s arms. 

“Do you like it?” Richie asked, coming closer and wrapping his arms around Eddie from the side. 

“I hate dogs,” Eddie muttered, but Richie could see the joy in his eyes. “What the fuck are we going to name it?” 

“Penny?” He offered, but Eddie shook his head. 

“That’s a shitty name.” He told him. 

“Thanks,” Richie said, frowning. “Let’s name him Katz.” 

“Katz?” Eddie laughed; his head thrown back. “You want me to name our dog after a _cat?_” 

“Uhm,” Richie buffered. “Yeah?” 

“I hate it,” Eddie said, grinning at the puppy. “Welcome to the family you little fucker.” He muttered to the dog, who squirmed happily. 

“Happy seventh Eds,” Richie said, turning Eddie’s head with his hand so he could press his lips against his boyfriends. 

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie whispered back, before kissing him even harder. 

_________________________________________

On their tenth year of dating, Richie proposes. 

One year after that they ran off to the Netherland to get married. 

Seven years after that and they're happier than ever, the three of them creating an odd mismatched family and Richie couldn’t ask for anything more in life. 

He had a beautiful husband who he loved more than anything, a dog who Eddie pretended to hate and Richie loved almost as much as his husband, and he had a wonderful job that made him very very rich. 

They weren’t technically out to the public, despite being married. Eddie didn’t want him to risk his career like that, despite Richie not giving a flying fuck. He didn’t care if he lost all his deals and was forever mocked wherever he went, he wanted to be able to parade Eddie down the street, wanted to show the world his hot husband. 

But he knew Eddie didn’t want that, so he stayed in the closet at his work, still joking about girlfriends and wives and he hated every second of it, but he did it either way. They were out to the people that mattered, their friends and close neighbors, and that was enough. 

Life was perfect, but sometimes both of them would wake up screaming for no reason with names they can’t really remember on the tips of their tongues. 

Richie sometimes can’t sleep, tortured by the harrowing sounds of someone screaming, and he wasn’t sure who it was but he knew it was someone he loved dearly. There was something missing from his mind, something hiding in the back of his mind, infecting his mind. Something he couldn’t touch, couldn’t pry out from behind the veil, and it bothered him. Sitting with Eddie helped. 

Eddie, on the other hand, had issues sometimes too. He sometimes got so worried about his and Richie’s health that he would cause himself to break down, and only the bullshit pills he forced himself to take would help him. Richie knew it was because of Eddie’s mother, but for the life of him, he couldn’t fully remember what Eddie’s mom did. But he knew that Eddie didn’t really need his inhaler, didn’t really need any of the shit Eddie thought he did. 

But they helped each other out, and when things got bad for either of them they would take time to unwind, to sit in their house with Katz cuddled between them. They worked out in the end, and despite everything, life still moved on with little to no bumps. Fighting was rare between them, and if they ever did it was solved within a few days. 

Everything was perfect.

But then he got a call from Derry Maine.


	2. There's something wretched about this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely comments on the last chapter!! They were a joy to read. Also, slightly bending canon specifically to make it so Mike calls Eddie first. How scandalous of me. 
> 
> Slight trigger warning for some homophobic slurs used and some indirect references to child abuse.

The traffic in New York was horrific. 

Eddie prided himself on being a good driver, and when he had a client waiting for him, he had to get there on time, or the entire company’s reputation would be ruined. 

The good thing about Richie and his jobs was that they were both flexible to where they operated in. The company he worked for would simply send him any numbers or investments they needed him to puzzle out, meaning he could work from wherever home was at the moment. With his chauffeur company, all he had to do was warn his boss when he was moving so she could look for clients in the area he was traveling to. 

It allowed him and Richie to mostly travel together whenever he had an out of town gig, hence the reason why they left their home in LA to operate in New York for the week. 

He was late, the rain a few hours previously somehow still managing to screw up traffic because every goddamn car in front of him forgot how to drive. 

“Are you going to hydroplane?” Richie asked over the phone, sounding a bit too gleeful for someone suggesting their husband was about to die. 

“No I am not,” Eddie hissed, leaning out the window to quickly scream at some stupidly reckless driver. “I am in fact more likely to crash talking to you than to hydroplane.” 

“Oh, how romantic,” Richie sighed. “I’ll put the words “died listening to husband ramble” on your grave.” 

“That seems like my most likely cause of death,” Eddie said dryly. “Now I got to go, isn’t your show starting soon?” 

“I have ten minutes,” Richie replied. 

Normally, Eddie tried to make as many shows as he could in order to support his husband, but if h couldn’t make it they simply called each other before the show, a meaningless ritual they started for no real reason.

“I don’t,” Eddie said cheerfully. “Bye.” 

With that he pressed the end button focusing on driving once again. 

Seconds later his phone was ringing again. 

“Eddie Tozier-Kaspbrak talking,” He said, thinking he was about to get chewed out by a client. 

“You didn’t say I love you,” Came Richie’s sing-song voice from the phone, and Eddie wished he was beside his husband right now just so he could punch him. 

“Seriously?” Eddie deadpanned, no amusement in his voice. It took him a while to manage that skill, to make sure that the semblance of a smile curling over his lips wasn’t allowed to filter through and encourage Richie. 

“Seriously!” Richie cried. “How do you expect me to do a show when my own husband won’t give me any of his love?" 

"Richie," Eddie said, shaking his head and he couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice this time. A glance at the screen showed another number calling, unknown from a town called Derry. The name made something in the back of his head ache, but he couldn’t list why.

“Come on,” Richie pressed, and Eddie could imagine the shit-eating grin on his face. “Say I love you Richie.” 

“I love you Rich,” Eddie said, allowing his voice to soften. “You fucking asshole, now go, I’m getting another call.” 

He hung up and accepted the other call, changing lanes as he did it. 

“Hello?” He asked, dropping the formal greeting while he was occupied with weaving through traffic. He had just under five minutes to get to the location. 

“Eddie?” A voice that was simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar asked. “It’s Mike.” 

“Mike who?” Eddie asked, but something deep inside him was pounding, a feeling close to fear implanting into his chest, causing his heart to beat rapidly. 

“From Derry,” Mike said, and the images flooded back. 

A young boy with dark skin, smiling at him. A girl with startling red hair. A larger boy with a kind face. A taller boy with the echo of a stutter flouting around him. A boy with curly hair and a glint in his eyes. A boy with coke bottle glasses who was oh so familiar. 

He didn’t notice the light turning red, didn’t notice the car barreling towards him. What he did notice was the impact that sent him tumbling to the side, his head knocking against the window, causing an already blossoming headache to flourish. 

“Eddie?” Mike’s voice filtered through the phone, sounding panicked. “Are you okay man?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie whispered, his heart pounding and he could feel fear radiating through him that wasn’t a product of crashing his car. “Never better.” 

__________________________________________

After phoning his boss and client to tell them what happened, he drove his only slightly ruined car as fast as he could towards the theater where Richie was performing. 

Had his husband already had the call? Was it only him? It wouldn’t be only him, Mike said he had also called Bill, Ben, and Stan already. It was weird, realizing after years just how messed up your childhood was. It was coming back in fragmented pieces, mostly small memories of some underground place, school and a woman who he knew was his mother. But at times he would be attacked by an almost paralyzing fear, images of sewers and an abandoned house flipping through his mind. 

It was weird realizing that he forgot all about his best friends. 

He had heard the name Bill Denbrough before, hell he had even tried to read one of his books at one point, but it wasn’t his cup of tea. He was pretty sure his office building was built by Hanscome architecture, and was also pretty sure that Richie’s suits were made by Beverly’s company. 

It was so fucking odd that he had somehow managed to forget the six people he loved more than anything in the world. 

Hell, he had forgotten his own husband for fucks sake. 

Memories were coming back now, Richie teasing him, the two of them in the hammock, little inside jokes that stuck even to this day even though they forgot the origin of them. 

It was surreal to remember a past with the person you loved after you lived over 27 years with them. Or well, longer than that apparently. 

He pulled up to the theater, marching past the bored security guard who barely even made an attempt to stop him. The security in these places were horrific. 

He walked into the waiting area, finding his way to the backstage entrance easily. He pushed the door open, and immediately someone was grabbing onto his shoulders. 

“You can’t come in here sir,” A gruff voice said, and Eddie would be relieved that someone was finally doing their job if it didn’t stop him from getting to Richie as soon as possible. 

“Like hell I can’t,” He snapped, pushing the man’s arms off of him. Or attempting to at least. 

“This is a private area,” The guard continued. “I’m sorry but I can’t-“ 

He was cut off by someone yelling Eddie’s name. 

“Jesus Christ thank god you’re here,” Richie’s manager Antony cried, walking forwards with intention. “Let him go Mark, he’s with me.” 

The guard let him go, turning back to the door and Eddie followed Antony through the hallway. 

“What is up with him?” The manager was asking. “One second he’s grinning like an idiot after calling you, then five minutes before the show he gets another call and he’s sprinting outside to puke. Then he gets on stage and just forgets all his lines?” 

“He handled it better than me,” Eddie muttered, running a hand down his cheek. His ears were still ringing from how loud Jess berated him for ruining one of her cars. 

Antony skillfully ignored him as if he hadn’t said anything at all. 

“I had to pull him off, told everyone a family member of his just died and they would get a full refund or free tickets to his next dhow. The press is going to be ugly on this Eddie, you better go set him straight.” Antony continued, but Eddie stopped listening, barging into Richie’s changing room door. 

His husband was sitting on his chair, his head in his hands and he didn’t look up when Eddie walked in, and Eddie closed the door behind him to ensure that Antony wouldn’t snoop.

“I don’t want to talk about it Ant, how many times do I have to tell you to fuck off?” Richie said, but his words lacked a bite. 

“That’s no way to talk to your husband,” Eddie said, and Richie looked up, his face falling when he saw Eddie. 

“Did he call you too?” Richie whispered, looking so frail that Eddie wanted to hold him close even though he himself felt like falling apart. 

“Yeah,” Eddie exhaled, walking closer and kneeling in front of his husband. “I crashed my fucking car.” 

“What?” Richie said, sounding shrill. Immediately his hands were on Eddie’s face, turning it this way and that. Eddie batted them away hopelessly, it was no use getting Richie to stop when he got into his protective mode. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is Jess going to murder you?” 

“I’m fine,” Eddie said, grabbing Richie’s hands and pulling them from his face, gently kissing his husbands knuckles. “Nothing too bad, Jess was pissed at me but what can you do. We might have a lawsuit coming our way though.” 

“We can pay it off,” Richie dismissed. 

They sat in silence for a long moment, their hands tightly clasped together as if they could pretend they didn’t just get a call that shook their entire lives. 

“What are we going to do?” Eddie whispered, and he had never seen Richie look as speechless as he did at that moment. “We have to go right?” 

“No we don’t,” Richie shook his head. “I don’t know why but I really don’t want to go back there Eds.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie said, almost on autopilot. He could hear himself saying it in his head, a younger version of himself. “I hate that.” 

“You said that all the time didn’t you,” Richie laughed, shaking his head. “You found it so annoying.” 

“I don’t think I really did,” Eddie said, frowning.

“Awe,” Richie cooed. “You’re never going to live that admission down.” 

“Beep beep Richie,” Eddie said, an old joke between them. But instead of making them smile like it used to, it made something deeper inside him shrivel up. 

“We used to say that too huh,” Richie said, almost dreamlike. “This is fucked up.” 

“We have to go back,” Eddie said, his hands tightening in Richie’s grip. “We made a promise right?” 

Richie let go of his hand, running his fingers down the scar they both had on their palms, one that Eddie never really noticed before now. 

“I don’t want to.” Richie insisted. “I don’t know why but there’s a feeling in my chest, something like fear but worse, and I don’t know why but this is a really bad idea Eds.” 

“I know,” Eddie whispered. “I feel it too, but don’t you want to see them all again?” 

Richie frowned, his face falling slightly. 

“I kind of do want to,” He said slowly. “Why did we agree to go back again?” 

“I don’t remember,” Eddie sighed. All he could recall when he thought of it was fear, mind-numbing, paralyzing fear. “But it must have been important.” 

“Maybe it’s just a friendly get together?” Richie offered. “Nothing else right?” 

“Maybe,” Eddie laughed. “Is it ever a friendly meetup?” 

“No,” Richie laughed, and something inside Eddie untensed at the sound. “It never is. But let’s go take Derry by storm darling.” 

___________________________________________

They paid a small fortune to get onto the first direct flight back to LA, the five-hour flight long and torturous, both of them lost in thought. 

By the time they got home, the feeling of dread had increased, but for some reason, no more memories would come back. He could see the glimpses of the other's faces, flashes of moments, but not much more. Really, all he could recall was feelings. 

Terror, joy, belonging, happiness, love. 

Lindsay met them at their house, a forced smile on her face. They hadn’t told her much, only that they were coming back early because something went wrong. Neither of them could think to say more than that. 

“Are you guys okay?” She asked right away, ushering them and their bags towards her car. “Katz is in the car, he missed you guys.” 

Eddie knew she was trying to lighten the mood, trying to offer them some sort of semblance of normalcy. 

“Where is my son?” Richie cried, almost running towards the car, opening the door and getting an armful of their dog. “There he is.” He cooed. 

If he clutched onto Katz a bit tighter than considered normal, Eddie didn’t want to mention it. 

They climbed into the car, Richie still coddling Katz in his arms and Eddie resisted the urge to pull the puppy from him to get some of his own comfort. 

Eddie tried to pretend he didn’t like or want that dog, but the thing had grown on him. How could you hate something so small an innocent like that? But he didn’t reach out for the dog, instead reaching out to grab Richie’s hand, their fingers interlacing. 

“You’ll need to watch him again. We need to go for a bit.” Eddie forced himself to say. He noticed how Lindsay’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and he was so grateful that she didn’t press. 

“How long?” She asked. 

“We don’t know,” Richie shrugged. “It’s kind of one of those things.” 

“Okay,” She replied softly. “I love watching him, he’s such a sweet puppy. But you guys need to tell me what’s going on sometimes.” 

“We will,” Eddie promised. “It’s just a really sudden thing. We’re not quite sure what it’s about either.” 

“Eddie’s mom died,” Richie said. 

“Eddie’s mom has been dead for years,” Lindsay deadpanned. “If your going to lie at least be tactful about it.” 

“Was worth a shot,” Richie shrugged. 

The ride continued in silence. 

They packed quickly, Richie throwing together a small suitcase, while Eddie packed at least two. 

“You packing for the end of the world?” Richie asked him, leaning against the doorway of their room. 

“Maybe,” Eddie snapped. “Who knows how long we’ll be there, what we might face, what if we get sick and have to stay longer? We know nothing about what we’re doing.” 

“Woah babe,” Richie soothed, a frown on his face as he walked closer. 

Eddie continued to slam things into his suitcase, unable to explain the panic coursing through his veins. He could feel his breath start to shorten; he should pack his inhaler too. 

“Eddie darling,” Richie said, grabbing his arms and stopping him from moving. Eddie struggled slightly, but then relaxed into his husband's embrace. Richie pulled him closer, his hands running through his hair. “I was kidding.” 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I don’t know what wrong.” 

“Me either,” Richie soothed. “But we will deal with it together okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said, nodding. For a full minute, the fear overtaking him as overpowered by the pure love and adoration he felt as he leaned forwards, capturing Richie’s lips. 

They catch a plane a little over an hour later. 

______________________________

They are halfway to the stupid town of Derry when Eddie picks up a newspaper. Richie was already asleep, his mouth hanging open and Eddie couldn’t help but find it endearing.

He finds himself flipping through the paper half-heartedly, barely scanning the paper. 

A single headline catches his eyes. 

_Small Town of Derry Maine Shocked After Homophobic Attack Kills Man._

“Fuck,” He whispered, his eyes scanning the page. 

A couple in their twenties went to a fair. Only one got out. Adrian Mellon was found the next day dismembered in the river. His boyfriend, Don, witnessed the whole thing. Said a gang of four people beat them up, wouldn’t allow Adrian his inhaler, and then tossed him over the side of the bridge. 

From there the story got sketchy. Don insisted that there was someone else, a clown form the fair that literally bit into Adrian’s body, but police said that he was most likely in shock. 

A part of Eddie knew that he wasn’t crazy. Images of a clown played in the back of his mind, a sick voice hissing in his ears. 

_“Come here girly boy.”_

Eddie slammed het paper down, his head falling into his hands. 

Memories continued to filter through his mind. A boy with an awful looking mullet for hair. He remembered running, fists raining down on him, the word ‘fag’ and ‘fairy’ shouted at him. 

He finally remembered why he left the town in the first place. He remembered his mothers’ words, insulting him and calling him diseased, remembered the hissed slurs in his ears whenever he went to school. Remembered his mom shoving enough pills down his throat to knock out a small elephant, remembered not being able to eat until he ‘cured’ himself of his homosexuality. 

He felt hot and heavy tears run down his cheek, and he grit his teeth hard. 

That town was a place of evil. He knew there was more, but those memories were enough to solidify that belief. They were still stuck in the 50’s, even back then. Apparently it hadn’t changed one bit. And now he was heading down there with his husband. 

“Eds?” Richie asked softly, his voice somewhat clouded with sleep. Eddie didn’t look up, not wanting his husband to see him like this. “Spaghetti are you okay?” 

Richie’s hands were on his back, moving soothingly and Eddie still can’t bring himself to look up. He has to though, once Richie puts his hands on his cheek and gently maneuvers his head up. 

Richie looked so concerned, so worried as his thumb darts out to wipe away some of the tears tracking down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” Richie whispered, his hand cupping Eddie’s cheek. He leaned into the warmth of it. 

“It hadn’t changed,” Eddie whispered, pushing the newspaper article towards his husband, who frowned by looks down at it. 

Richie reads fast, his face twisting up with his own grief. Eddie watches as his finger lightly passes over a single sentence over and over again. A quick glance down answers his question. 

It’s the sentence about the men denying Adrian his inhaler, how they kicked it away and watched as he choked on his own breath. 

Eddie knew what Richie was thinking of, he was thinking of it too. They were both picturing Eddie’s own inhaler that he hasn’t used in years, sitting unused in their bathroom. 

He should have brought it, should have grabbed it before he left. He had a feeling he would need it. 

“Is it safe to go?” Richie whispered. 

“I don’t know,” Eddie replied. Was it safe? His instincts said no. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t go as married,” Richie said softly. 

“What?” Eddie asked, a pang of something deep inside his chest. 

“I mean, what if the others are like this? What if we get attacked?” Richie was rambling. “I can’t lose you Eds, not to something like this. It would only be a couple of days, just some good old-fashioned acting.” 

“You’re a horrible actor,” Eddie said, but he could feel himself wavering. Maybe it was for the best. He paused, looking down at the identical rings they wore. Carefully he slipped it off, unclipping the necklace Richie bought for him on their one year. He slipped the ring onto the chain, watching as Richie did the same with his own necklace. 

“Congrats,” Richie said weakly. “We are officially divorced.” 

“It’s because you fucked my mom,” Eddie giggled, enjoying the smile that spread across Richie’s lips. 

“No regrets,” Richie teased, leaning in to give Eddie a long kiss. “One of us should be married.” 

“Aren’t we both married?” Eddie asked, not following. 

“No!” Richie laughed. “I mean to the losers, make it believable.” 

“It should be me,” Eddie said. 

“What, do you think I’m not marriage material,” Richie jokes, pursing his lips and smacking them together loudly. 

“You’re famous,” Eddie shrugged. “A quick google search would reveal that you’re ‘not married’ to anyone.” 

“Ah,” Richie nodded. “That’s actually pretty smart.” 

“We all know I’m the brains of this relationship,” Eddie smiled, his fingers tangling with Richie’s. 

“Does that make me the beauty?” Richie asked. 

“No,” Eddie shook his head. “I’m that too.” 

“That you are,” Richie said lowly, leaning forwards to kiss him once again. 

It was going to be hell to not kiss him for these next few days, to not touch him, to pretend that they haven’t been together all these years. 

They kissed for another long moment before Richie pulled away, Eddie didn’t want him to. He wanted to continue to kiss him, to savor the last bit of peace they had before entering that godforsaken town. 

“You should be married to Myra,” Richie said, and Eddie chocked. 

“Our nurse?” He said, his head thrown back as he laughed. 

Eddie had insisted on getting one when Richie came down with the flu, and Richie had agreed to calm him down. 

Their nurse was a nice girl by the name of Myra Kerry, a woman who reminded Eddie a fair bit of his mother. She had flirted with Eddie the entire time she was at their house, much to Richie’s amusement. They hadn’t stayed in contact, but sometimes they would meet around town and talk for a bit. She was a casual acquaintance of theirs. 

“It would be perfect!” Richie cried, also laughing. “She’s just like your mom, which is just perfect you little motherfucker.” 

“Beep beep,” Eddie said between laughter. “I guess I’m married to Myra now.” 

“She’d rub your feet every night before bed,” Richie purred. “Would coddle you and feed you little pills like candy.” 

“You’re an asshole,” Eddie said, but couldn’t help the smile curling at his lips. 

“Oh you love me,” Richie said, leaning forwards for another kiss. But Eddie pushed him away jokingly, smiling widely. 

“Nope,” He said cheekily. “I am extremely faithful to my beautiful wife.” 

Richie groaned, leaning back and putting a hand to his forehead dramatically. 

“Whatever will I do?” He cried. “I must become a house wrecker I guess.” 

“In your dreams,” Eddie snorted. “Myra and I are extremely happy together, no one can break us apart.” 

“This is going to be so much fun,” Richie giggled. “Imagine the look on Bev’s face, I’m pretty sure she thought we were fucking ever since we were ten.” 

“Gross,” Eddie scrunched up his nose, flashes of the red-haired girl flashing in front of his eyes. “I can barely remember them, it’s weird.” 

“Yeah,” Richie sighed, sobering up. “It is so trippy.” 

They sat in silence for a long moment, neither talking. 

It was going to be a horrible couple of days, and Eddie knew it wasn’t just because he couldn’t kiss his husband in public. 

There was something horribly wrong with the town of Derry Maine, he just wished he could remember what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants to vote on who the first loser to call their bluff is?


	3. Idealism sits prison, chivalry fell on it's sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a shorter chapter, but I was just super excited to get to the flashback parts cause there's a lot of shit going down in the next two chapters. Also, if you notice that I skipped over a lot of dialogue that is because I couldn't remember anything that actually happened at the beginning of the movie even though I saw it two days ago lmao.

They got into Derry late, getting separate cars to drive to the Inn with the get rid of any suspicion. 

Richie didn’t want to go through with this whole ‘pretend not to be husbands’ thing, but every time he thought of telling Eddie to forget it, his mind flashed back to that stupid newspaper article. All he could see was Eddie lying on that stupid bridge, his face beat in, breath coming out labored as those assholes stood over top of him. All he could picture was himself being pinned down, useless and they dragged Eddie over the side, dumping him into the dirty river below. 

He closed his eyes, stopping at a red light and shaking his head. He didn’t want to think about this anymore, didn’t want to think of Eddie broken and bloody on the ground. Imagining himself helpless to help his husband was killing him. 

He got to the Inn before Eddie, checking in and bringing his suitcase up. He knew Eddie wouldn’t be too far behind him. 

Sure enough, only a few minutes later there was a knock on his door, and before Richie could even respond Eddie was walking in, closing the door behind him. 

“No one else is here yet,” He said as a greeting, walking over to the bed. “I checked myself into a separate room right beside yours.” 

He gestured to the closed door on the other wall. 

“I think that leads to my room,” Eddie said, frowning. “I have one around the same place.” 

“Ooh, how romantic,” Richie said suggestively, walking over and lying beside Eddie. “You can sneak into my room late at night, like we’re teenagers again.” 

“You never snuck into my room,” Eddie muttered. “You walked through the front door, waved at my mom and then came upstairs despite it being 3 am.” 

“She never stopped me,” Richie countered.

“Because she thought she was hallucinating you half the time,” Eddie snorted, shaking his head. Richie couldn’t help but lean forwards and kiss him softly. 

“I’m going to miss doing that.” He whined. “What am I going to do if not kiss those plump little lips?”

“Shut up your horn dog,” Eddie laughed, but he let himself dig deeper into the kiss. 

"Fuck," Richie sighed as they pulled back. "The next few hours are going to be hell for me." 

"Shut up and kiss me while you can," Eddie said, his voice low, and Richie had no qualms about doing just that.

Richie almost whines when Eddie pulled back. 

"So," Richie said. "Who do you think Bev is going to kiss first? Bill or Ben." 

"Richie!" Eddie scolded, smacking his shoulder. 

"Oh sorry," Richie said with a grin. "Who do you think she's going to lock lips with first? Who do you think she'll play tonsil hockey with first? Whose face is she going to suck?" 

"You are fucking disgusting," Eddie told him. "Bill." He replied after a moment's thought.

"Really?" Richie cried. "I don't believe it." 

"No, that's how it's going to happen," Eddie shrugged. "She'll kiss Bill, but she will leave with Ben." 

"You think?" Richie asked. 

"I know it," Eddie scoffed. "Ben and her have been in love longer than we have." 

"Don't know about that," Richie sighed, running his fingers through Eddie's hair. They were so soft. He leaned down to kiss Eddie again, his other hand coming up to trace his cheekbone.

“We’re going to be late,” Eddie reminded him, pulling away. “I’m already ready, so I’ll go first.” 

“I’m ready too,” Richie said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. His contacts felt really scratchy for some reason. Maybe he’d put on his glasses. 

“You are not going out looking like that,” Eddie said, raking his eyes over him, and not in a sexy way either. “Get changed, wash up, and then come down to the restaurant.” 

“Fine,” Richie said sighing slightly. “I’ll see you there hot cheeks.” 

Eddie didn’t reply, simply opening the door and slipping into the hallway, leaving Richie once again alone. 

He sighs, running a hand down his face as he meandered into the bathroom, pulling on a better outfit and splashing water onto his face. His contacts kept bugging him, so he pulled out his glasses and threw them onto his face. Five minutes later he was out the door, hopping into his obnoxiously colored red car and driving down to the address Mike told him. 

He knew Eddie was inside already, and as he walked up he saw two people standing in front of the store, looking awfully familiar. 

The one he could place immediately, with her shockingly red hair and a face that had barely changed, Beverly looked amazing. He was 90% sure the other one was Ben, but at the same time, there was no fucking way. 

“Wow,” He said, injecting himself to their conversation. “You two look amazing, what the fuck happened to me?” 

Beverly turned around, smiling widely as she reached out to hug him, and Ben reintroduced himself, and damn the dude lost some weight in the last time they met. It was refreshing, seeing them again. It was like pieces of himself that he left behind here in Derry had finally rejoined.

They all walked in together, and as they joined the main room, Richie felt the need to be as annoying as possible. Bill and Mike stood there, somehow so changed but not different at all, With Eddie in the middle, looking as awkward as possible. So he reached out, grabbed the giant drumstick thingy, and rang the huge gong beside him. 

“Let the meeting of the Losers Club begin!” He cried, raising his arms. He caught Eddie’s eyes, and had to stop himself from smiling sappily at his husband. It was going to be a long couple of hours.

The next few minutes were a blur, they all found their seats and started talking, catching up. Bev talked about her oh so wonderful husband that Richie already despised, Bill talked about his own wife, Ben talked about his job. They fell into conversation easily, clicking together like pieces of a puzzle.

Eddie and he tried not to talk about their lives too much, a few comments here and there, but the drunker Richie got the less he had control over his lips. 

“So Eddie,” Bill said, turning to Richie’s husband. “Did you get married?” 

“Yup,” Eddie said, nodding and quickly downing a shot, his eyes flickering over to Richie for a second. 

“To what?” Richie found himself saying without thinking. “A woman?” 

It was a cheap shot, and Richie totally deserved the glare he got from Eddie.

“Fuck you,” Eddie snapped, but Richie knew it was more of a warning than anything.

“What about you?” Bev asked him. “Did you get married?” 

“Oh yeah,” He replied without thinking, and then his mind caught up and he had a small moment of panic. He forgot that for the moment he wasn't supposed to be gay. Fuck, he wanted to lean across the table either way, kiss Eddie just so that he could see the look on all his friends' faces.

“No way,” Everyone was saying, laughing loudly at him. He would feel slightly insulted at his friends' lack of faith in his ability to marry, but he was too busy trying to figure out the best way to not get stabbed by his husband, who looked seconds away from murdering him.

“There’s no way you got married,” Eddie said, a hint of danger to his voice, and Richie gave him a shit-eating grin. 

“Oh yes,” He said seriously, leaning back. “Your mom and I are in a very loving relationship.” 

He could see the relief flash over Eddie’s face before he was swearing Richie out. The sound of everyone's laughter is like music to his ears. Eddie reached over to smack him, and for a second Richie can't restrain the stupidly giddy smile that plastered over his face. He forced himself to look away from Eddie, his eyes instead falling onto Mike, who raised a single eyebrow at him. Richie looked away from him too. 

The night progressed easier. It was weird, thinking he spent so much time away from them all. He felt whole being here, like he finally found that one lost sock after years of searching. 

Bev and him were fooling around, pretending to kiss only for her to shove more food into his mouth. He forgot how much he missed her and the easygoing air that surrounded them. A debate started over who was the strongest, and before he knew what was happening he and Eddie were arm wrestling. He relaxed at the familiar feeling of Eddie's hand in his. 

Eddie was drunk, that much was clear. But then again, Richie was too so how much could he judge? He just hoped they both managed to keep their mouths shut. 

The urge to kiss Eddie was almost overwhelming. He just looked so cute like this, smiling and carefree, not a care in the world. Eddie always looked adorable when drunk, when he smiled so much easier, when he blushed red, when he laughed with his whole body. Everything about him was adorable and he was barely able to stop himself from pinning Eddie to the table right then and there.

Of course, Eddie wasn’t really helping with that. 

“Let’s take off our shirts and kiss,” Eddie teased, a wine drunk smile on his lips. Richie was barely able to restrain himself from doing just that. Stupid husbands being adorable and stupid him for agreeing to pretend to be straight.

After the arm wrestle between them was over Eddie turned to Mike, challenging him as well. Richie watched the two of them carefully, a soft smile on his lips.

He liked seeing Eddie like this, around his friends. It reminded Richie to just why he fell in love with him in the first place, those years spent as children. It was refreshing, to remember more about the man he loved. To remember the two of them as kids, annoying the shit out of each other.

Someone tapped his shoulder, he turned to see Bev, holding a pack of cigarettes in her hand, a soft smile dancing over her lips. 

“Wanna go for a smoke break?” She offered, and Richie agreed without thinking. He hadn’t smoked in years, but suddenly the urge came back so urgently he felt like he would die if he didn’t get a hit of that wonderful nicotine again. 

The two of them excused themselves and walked out of the store, leaning against the front window. Bev offered him a cigarette that he gladfully took. They lit it in silence, and Richie enjoyed the smoke filling his lungs, the taste against his tongue. It felt just like old times, when he and Bev would sit outside the school to share a cigarette or two. He knew that Eddie would be pissed at him for relapsing, but he found that at the moment he really didn’t care. 

“So,” Beverly said, leaning towards him, a twinkle in her eyes. “You going to tell me what’s up between you and Eddie?” 

He nearly choked, coughing harshly as the smoke caught in his throat. When he regained control of himself he looked up to see Bev smirking up at him in the same way he remembered as a child. The smirk that said that she knew something you didn’t want her to. 

“I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about,” He said, his voice coming out a lot higher than he wanted it to. 

“You guys are subtle as a bright pink elephant,” She snorted. “Every time you say something funny you look over to him as if for approval, and neither of you have stopped staring at each other in that stupid lovey-dovey way.” 

“You're looking too far into it,” Richie sighed. He was drunk as fuck, and Eddie was right, he was a horrible actor. “I didn’t even remember him before I got here.” 

“Don’t fuck with me Rich,” Bev laughed. “I know you two left together.” 

“What?” He asked, laughing awkwardly. His heart was poudning inside his chest, which was ridiculous because this was _Beverly_ for fucks sake. 

“It was fairly obvious,” Bev shrugged. “Or at least it was to me.” 

Richie was honestly a bit disappointed the two of them only lasted being straight for like, an hour at most. 

“You left, and suddenly three days later we realize Eddie left too. It didn’t take long to figure out that he left with you and we just didn’t notice.” Bev continued. “So don’t bullshit me Rich.” 

"You didn't notice that he left?" He asked, feeling slightly annoyed at them. How could they not have noticed Eddie straight up leaving town? 

"We figured he was just moping because you left," Beverly said easily. "But it makes more sense that the two of you ran off together. 

She put it so easily, so romantically. But that was what happened, wasn't it? It took them a few years to pull their shit together, but they ran off together, fled this town in each other's arms. Beverly had them pinned down.

“Fine,” He sighed, his shoulders dropping. “We left together.” 

“I knew it,” Bev said, smiling widely. “I was only like 90% sure about that too.” 

He could salvage this, couldn’t he? He just needed to focus and not let it slip that they were married, he could make this work. 

“We split up when we got to LA. He got accepted to some other college and we fell out of contact. But, we uh, we may have dated a little bit here and there before it happened.” He rambled, his eyes falling down. God, he hoped she believed it, that was the worst lie he had ever told someone. 

“And you’re both still in love with each other.” She filled in, believing the lie easily. She was brilliant, but when it came to a love story she was quick to accept it. “Fuck Rich, that’s depressing.” 

“Tell me about it,” Richie laughed. “He's married.” 

Which wasn’t really a lie. Technically Eddie was married, just to Richie, not some overweight imitation of his mom.

“I’m sorry,” Beverly said, her hand resting on his shoulder and he felt bad for lying to her. He should just tell her the truth. But then the image of a boy with horrible hair flashed in front of his eyes, calling him a fairy and telling him to run. So he shut his mouth once again. “If it makes you feel better, I think he likes you too. You should just like, tell him or something.” 

"Elegant wording," He teased her. 

"You know what I mean," She giggled. "You should see the way he looks at you. His wife can't hold a fucking candle to you."

“A fat lot of good that does,” He says, grinning at her. “We should go back in before Ben thinks we eloped to Antarctica.” 

Bev laughs, shaking her head as they both put out their cigarettes and wandered back in. 

The rest of the dinner doesn’t go as well as it was after that.

Richie isn’t sure what happened to start it, but they opened up the fortune cookies and suddenly there was a message being literally sent to them from the fortune cookie gods. Or that stupid fucking clown. Fuck, how could he have forgotten about the clown? 

That really wasn’t important at the moment, because there was some sort of weird baby creature crawling out of the cookie and Richie could fear the familiar fear curling up inside him, grabbing a hold of his heart and sending it pounding once again. A part of him tried to believe that this was all in his head. He was just super drunk.

But there was a fortune cookie with wings flying towards Eddie and Ben and he could hear his husband screaming, cowering in Ben’s arms and Richie felt the panic go up tenfold. It was real.

“Eddie?” He called out, almost pathetically. “Eddie!” 

He wanted to dive across the table and get him, but he found himself rooted to the spot, forever grateful for Ben who stood over Eddie like a ridiculously jacked knight in shining armor. Richie felt jealous for around a whole second, how wouldn’t be with his husband cowering in someone that beautiful of arms, but then he remembered the fear and decided to deal with his jealousy issues later. 

He wasn’t sure how it ended, but basically a woman walks into them all having a mental breakdown, and when they leave Richie decides to practically assault a young kid because his paranoia meter is off the fucking charts. 

It takes every bone in his body not to run and just hug Eddie, to curl up in his husbands’ arms and beg him to go back to their little house, so they can go hug Katz and curl up in bed with Eddie and his dog. He wants to feel safe again. 

Apparently Stan is dead, and he knows that they would be next if they keep this up. 

And fuck, Stan is dead. He hadn’t remembered Stan before, but now that he had, it made something deep inside him ache. Stan was the other loser he was closest to, the two meeting in temple, growing up together. Stan never put up with his shit, put him in his place whenever he was getting out of line and man he missed his friend. 

His friend who was dead. 

Richie wanted to go home. 

But Mike apparently thinks that they can _kill_ it. Like they are some sort of group of dangerous vigilante thugs ready to save the town. But he isn’t that, he’s just a cowardly comedian who can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut half the time. 

So he leaves, he looks Eddie in the eyes and says he can’t do this, and then he walks out. 

He knows Eddie followed him, can hear the slam of his car door and Richie knew they would meet back in the Inn, knew that Eddie would make a half-assed attempt to keep him here before they both packed up and went on their merry little way. 

He drives back and marches up the stairs, Eddie only a few steps behind him. 

Ben and Beverly are behind them, Beverly heading for the bar and Ben attempting to coerce them into staying. Richie doesn’t listen, practically racing up the stairs. 

Memories won't stop flooding back. The fight with Pennywise, Neibold street, Eddie with that stupid clowns’ hand over his face and his arm broken. He remembers the fear, the anger, the desperation. Screams are constantly ringing in his ear, and he’s pretty sure it’s Stan and Eddie screaming. 

Eddie opens the door between their rooms and walks in. 

“I can’t do this,” Is the first thing he says. “I’m sorry Eds, I can’t.” 

“I don’t want to either,” Eddie snorted. “Like fuck I’m staying here to get killed.” 

“Oh thank god,” Richie sighed. He hadn’t known what he’d do if Eddie insisted on staying. 

Eddie walked over, pressing their foreheads together and Richie can’t stand it anymore. He leans forwards and pressed their lips together with an intensity he hadn’t felt in a long time. He pressed against Eddie, desperately running his fingers through his hair and tugging him closer until they're pressed against each other and Richie can feel the beat of their hearts. 

“It was horrible,” Richie said when they pulled back for breath. “Not being able to touch your cute little butt or kiss your pretty little lips.” 

Eddie laughed, sighing and pressing another kiss to his lips. 

"Like fuck," Richie whined. "The number of times I just wanted to grab you and kiss you senseless? It was horrible having to shove all that gay into a bag before walking in there. I forgot how boring being straight was." 

"You were horrible at it," Eddie told him. 

"I was horrible at it?" Richie asked. "Okay Mister 'Let's take off our shirts and kiss'. That was super subtle." 

Eddie blushed a brilliant red color. 

"You were seconds away from admitting that we were married," He countered, and well, he wasn't wrong about that. 

“Bev was suspicious by the way,” Richie said. “She knew we left together, I lied and told her we dated a bit but then you tragically had to leave and I forgot all about you again, but we are still secretly in love. Which is forbidden, cause your married and I am tragically alone with my darling.” 

“You could have just told her the truth and said not to tell anyone,” Eddie said, his eyebrows raising. 

“Well,” Richie said, his cheeks turning red. He didn't think of that. “I guess I could have huh.” 

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. 

“I’m going to pack; you think we can manage to catch another flight tonight?” Eddie said, patting his shoulder and pushing away. 

“What’s the difference between two flights and three?” Richie said with a dry smile, pressing one last kiss to his husbands’ lips before he left. 

They never left. 

Because apparently Beverly had become a prophet of the clown and had watched all of them, including Stan, die. And how could he leave after that? When he knew that if he left he would be condemning both him and his husband to death.

Fuck this clown. Fuck the whole situation. 

Mike made them promise to stay, and one look at Eddie’s face proved that they weren’t going anywhere. It was bullshit how just looking at Eddie's determined face was enough to make him want to stay here. He might not want to do this, but there was no way he was leaving Eddie here alone.

So Richie walked back upstairs, opening the door and startling when Ben walked after him, grinning slightly. 

“Can I come in?” He asked. 

“You move fast Benny boy,” Richie said with a wink, but gestured him in anyways. “What’s up?” 

Richie moved towards the bed, tossing his suitcase back onto the bed as Ben hovered awkwardly in the doorway. 

“Is something going on between you and Eddie?” Ben asked in a rush.

“What?” Richie asked, laughing slightly. How bad of a fucking actor was he? 

“I mean, you guys look tense around each other, and you can’t stop looking at him in a weirdly intense way.” Ben continued. “Are you guys fighting or something?” 

Richie felt like laughing. Leave it to Ben to see Richie making bedroom eyes at his husband and assume that they are feuding. 

It was easier to deal with than Beverly’s accusations at least. 

“It’s just odd,” Richie admitted, his shoulders slouching. “I lost my entire childhood to this asshole clown, hell I didn’t know who the fuck any of you were until like a day ago.” 

“Tell me about it,” Ben chuckled. “A part of me always remembered, but more feelings than memories and names.” His hand reached towards his pocket, patting something Richie couldn’t see. He decided not to ask. 

“But hey, at least you got rich and hot buddy,” Richie joked, laughing out loud. “I just got rich.” 

Ben laughed, a blush filling his cheeks as he shook his head. 

“You haven’t changed one bit,” He chuckled. “It’s refreshing.” 

“You’ve only changed in size,” Richie said, smiling. He forgot how much he enjoyed Ben’s company. The dude was just too nice for his own good. 

“I’m glad you’re here Richie,” Ben said, shaking his head. “Get some sleep now asshole.” 

“You too bitch!” He called out as Ben left. 

Minutes later Eddie entered the room. 

“Are you flirting with Ben?” Eddie said, a coy smile on his lips. 

“Who isn’t?” Richie scoffed. “That man is hot enough to turn even the straightest men gay.” 

“Beep beep,” Eddie laughed, sitting on their bed. “Are we really doing this?” 

“Apparently,” Richie sighed. “I fucking hate that we are.” 

“Same,” Eddie snorted. “I want to go home.” 

“We still could,” Richie offered hopefully. 

But Eddie only shook his head. He sighed, walking over to sit beside his husband, his head resting on his shoulder. 

“This sucks.” He said heavily.

“You could say that again.” 

“This sucks,” Richie said with a grin, cocking his head and kissing Eddie’s neck. 

Eddie pushed him off, rolling his eyes. 

“Let’s go to bed okay?” Eddie proposed. 

“I like that idea,” Richie said, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. 

“In your dreams,” Eddie sighed, falling back. “I’m too tired.” 

“Damn,” Richie sighed, laying back. “Foiled by the wiles of sleep once again.” 

“Shut up,” Eddie said, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I’m trying to sleep.” 

“Okay my dear darling Eds,” He cooed, curling up behind his husband and wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist. He shoved his head into his neck, breathing in the scent unique to Eddie. He felt jittery after the fuck show that was dinner, but being here with Eddie calmed him down. Feeling Eddie's body pressed against him managed to relax even the tensest of his muscles.

They fell asleep like that, wrapped safely and securely in each other's arms.

He had a feeling the safety and peace wouldn't last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Eddie and Bill have a heart to heart, and the Loser's go out on a trip to the barrens.


	4. Something so precious about this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not the biggest fan of this chapter cause I literally forgot everything they say during the clubhouse scene, so I improvised it. Don't be too disappointed when it doesn't match up. I also hate writing Bill's stutter, but I love him and had to put a convo with him in there.

He couldn’t sleep. 

He hates it when he gets like this, when his nerves are strung so high that he can’t keep his eyes closed, can’t fall asleep. Normally, when he got like this he would get up and sit with Katz, until Richie inevitably noticed and joined him, the two of them sitting in content silence. 

This time, all Eddie does is slip from his husbands’ arms and slip out the door. He hoped that Richie wouldn’t wake up and wonder where he went, Eddie knew how traumatizing the past day had been for him, and he needed all the sleep he can get. 

Eddie found himself sitting in the bar, an empty glass in front of him, a bottle of vodka to the side. He hadn’t started drinking yet, and knew he really shouldn’t start. He was still buzzed from the restaurant, and he wanted to be clear-headed when they did whatever they were doing tomorrow, but the temptation was just a bit too strong to ignore. 

He poured himself a drink, eyeing the bar to see if there was anything more his usual tastes. Vodka could due of course, but he was never a big fan of the taste. Well, eh normally didn’t drink much at all in the first place, but he found he was prone to doing it when the stress got a bit too much. 

He was pouring his second shot when Bill walked in. 

“Can’t sleep?” Bill said, startling Eddie slightly. He managed to contain the jump, scolding himself over being so jumpy already. He felt like he was a little kid again, jumping at every noise, obsessing over every little thing he did. He can still hear his mothers voice in his ear, her overly high and worried voice screeching at him. 

_”Don’t you ever drink Eddie-bear, it’ll ruin your liver, rot you from the inside out.” _

He reached over and downed the shot in protest. 

“Nope,” He sighed, and Bill sat beside him. “Can’t turn my goddamn brain off.” 

“Yeah I know,” Bill said, chuckling slightly. He reached behind the bar and pulled out his own glass. “Shit’s crazy.” 

“I can drink to that,” Eddie said, smiling softly and clinking their cups together before he downed the liquid, the burn on his throat helping to center him. “This is fucked up isn’t it?” 

Bill nodded, a hand running down his face. 

“It’s g-good to see you though,” Bill said, smiling over at Eddie. “Just wish it was over buh-better circumstances.” 

Eddie smiled back, relaxing slightly. It was easy, sitting here with Bill. The two of them had met when they were five, Eddie thinks. It’s still annoyingly blurry. But he knew he had a soft spot for Bill, and Bill for him. Other than Richie, Bill was probably one of his best friends. Eddie honestly can’t believe that he forgot about him. 

“We’ll have to keep in touch,” He said. “After all this shit happens. But like, keep in touch for real, not the half assed stuff we did before we all forgot.” 

“Maybe I would have kept in touch with you if you didn’t leave in the middle of the night?” Bill said dryly, and Eddie blushed dark red. He did leave without saying goodbye didn’t he? For some reason Richie and him didn’t want the others to know, so he practically tried to say goodbye when they wished Richie the best. Fuck, he had forgotten about that. He had forgotten a lot. 

“I needed to get out of there,” Eddie said with a shrug. “You want to know what’s weird?” 

“Everything about you?” Bill asked, and Eddie laughed, reaching over to smack him. 

“No you asshole,” He said. “I fell like I’m a kid again. I just called in a prescription for an inhaler, even though I hadn’t used one in years. I walked into this goddamn town and suddenly I feel like a helpless 13-year-old all over again.” 

“Yeah,” Bill sighed. “I know.” 

“It’s weird,” He said, pouring himself and Bill another drink. His friend smiled at him gratefully.

“I’m stuttering again,” Bill said. “I got ov-over it, but nu-now I’m doing it again even after yuh-years of speech therapy.” His eyes were squeezed shut and he shook his head, almost like he was trying to shake water off of his head. “It’s frustrating.” 

“This town,” Eddie mused. “It does things to you.”

“Changes the guh-good to ignorant and the bad w-worse.” Bill said, raising up his glass and downing it. They would be drunk by the time they went back upstairs, if they ever did. 

“But it’s nice being back here, in some twisted way.” Eddie said. “Maybe not in the town, but being around you people. I really had fun tonight, before you know the whole fortune cookie thing.” He shuddered, his mind wandering back to the table, Ben holding onto him as he screamed like a little baby, paralyzed with fear. “That wasn’t nice.” 

“Yeah, it’s nuh-nice here,” Bill said, he cocked his head a little to the side, his eyes narrowing as his lips jerked up. “I think Mike drugged me.” 

“I’m sorry what?” Eddie asked, not sure if he should believe him or not. 

“To make me see what happened with the whole, situation thing.” Bill shrugged. “He totally drugged me though.” 

“We have a weird friend group,” Eddie said, pouring another shot. He should be more concerned over this story, but he found he didn’t want to. Mike drugging Bill for the greater good honestly wasn’t the most out of character thing any of them had done throughout the night.

“Let’s move to the couch.” 

Eddie joined him, Bill stopping first to grab a bottle of whiskey and two larger cups for them. Eddie smiled his thanks, sinking into the comfortable chair. He was fairly buzzed already, his thoughts jumbling around. 

It didn’t take them long before they were chatting, talking easily about each other's lives since they left.

“She’s funny, always had a juh-joke to tell. Also kind, the kindest woman I know, and she’s beautiful,” Bill was sighing, a dopey smile on his lips. “T-truly a knock out.” 

“She kind of looks like Beverly,” Eddie says, because being drunk always ruins his filter. “With the red hair, being drop dead gorgeous.” 

“I guess I have a type,” Bill shrugged, thankfully not finding it offensive. “I lu-like red hair.” 

“I prefer black,” Eddie sighs, thinking back to Richie’s hair spread out of the pillow, shining in the soft light. His hair was truly stunning, like a black hole or something equally romantic Eddie couldn’t think of.

“Is your wife’s hair black?” Bill asked, a cheekily smile on his lips and for a full second Eddie had to restrain himself from going on a rant about how wonderful he found Richie’s hair to be. 

“No,” He said, shaking his head. He tried to conjure up an image of Myra, it had been months since he last saw her. “She had blonde hair.” 

“Don’t let her know you like black then,” Bill said with a laugh. “She’d flip.” 

“Yeah,” He said thinking of Myra’s explosive temper when she was their nurse. She never got mad, but she could work himself up into such a rant no one could get a word in edgewise. “She can get a bit out of hand.” 

“You don’t love her do you?” Bill asked, startling Eddie enough that he nearly dropped his drink, barely managing to hold onto the glass. 

“What are you talking about?” He asked, his voice coming out a bit too high. 

“You never wear a ring,” Bill nodded down to his hand. Eddie wasn’t sure how to best explain that he did have a ring, just a ring that matched Richie’s. “And whenever you talk about her there’s no fire, no spark behind your eyes. You don’t love her.” 

“No,” He finds himself admitting. “No, I don’t.” He can’t imagine himself in a world where he would love anyone other than Richie, but there was no way he was going to tell Bill that. He didn’t know why he was so petrified at the idea of telling Bill the truth. This was _Bill_ his best friend since before he could remember. But at the same time the thought of Bill, who he always looked up to as a kid learning about who he is, the possibility of disgust, it was too much to stomach.

“Is there anyone you love?” Bill presses, leaning forwards. Eddie felt like he was going to be sick. 

“Yeah,” He said, his mouth suddenly dry. “You guys, all of you guys.” 

“S-shut up,” Bill said, leaning back but his eyes still twinkled. “You had me excited there.” 

“No I mean it!” Eddie cried out, laughing. “All of you guys, you’re the people I love. The people I care about most. You, Richie, Bev, Ben, Mike,” He paused, something inside his chest falling for a second. “Stan.” 

Bill seemed to sober up a bit too at the name, his eyes turned down. 

“I muh-miss him,” Bill sighed. “F-fuck Eddie he d-didn’t deserve that.” 

“No, no he didn’t.” Eddie sighed. “Remember when Bowers and his gang cornered the two of us after school one day and he came out of nowhere and hit Bowers with his bike?” 

Bill blinked, then threw his head back, laughing loud enough that he figured that everyone else woke up. He found he didn’t really care. 

“I’ve never seen him ride so fast!” Bill said between laughs, Eddie found himself giggling as well, the memory in his mind becoming clearer. “I thought buh-Bowers was going to have a heart attack where he s-stood.” 

Eddie can picture the image as clear as day now. The two of them had to do a test after school, coming out off class late. They were in a good mood, talking and joking around when Bowers and his gang of assholes shows up. Eddie remembered the fear as Belch and Vic held Bill back, Patrick too close as he held Eddie back and Henry holding a knife to his neck. He remembered freaking out, his breath coming in short burst but unable to pull any in. 

He honest to god thought this would be the moment he died when he heard Stan’s voice scream out. 

“Over here Asshole!” Stan had cried, gong insanely fast on his bike down the hill, barreling Henry right over. Bill and him had broken free while the lackies made sure Henry was away, and they barely made it out of there after Henry was up again. 

It was one of the better encounters with Henry, since after they were in the clear they could do nothing but laugh, the look on Bowers's face imprinted in their minds. 

“He was amazing,” Eddie whispered. “God I miss him.” 

They sat in silence for a long moment, the memory fading away while leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Stan was dead. Stan who brought him music every other week, filled with random songs he thought Eddie would enjoy. Stan who always brought his brutally honest opinion to the table whenever Eddie was freaking out. Stan who was so overjoyed to have true friends and was so terrified of what happened that summer. 

“He kuh-killed himself,” Bill whispered. “How c-could he do that?” 

“I don’t know,” Eddie replied honestly. He was terrified of It, scared shitless and to the point where he wanted to crawl into a hole to hide. But the thought of offing himself to avoid it? He wouldn’t dare. Stan wouldn’t either, Stan was always the smartest of them all. “There has to be more to it,” Eddie mused. “He knew something we didn’t.” 

“Wouldn’t suh-surprise me,” Bill said, shaking his head. “He was always too smart for his own good.” 

“Old beyond his age,” Eddie said, draining the last of his beer. “I think we should go to sleep if we want to be operational tomorrow.” 

“P-probably,” Bill said, standing up as well. “Don’t stay up much later okay?” 

“Of course,” Eddie said with a shaky smile. “I wouldn’t want to miss the last opportunity to sleep before I march to my death.” 

Something inside Bill’s face twisted, and before he knew what was happening Bill was reaching out and roughly grabbing a hold of him, tugging him into his arms. He wasn’t much smaller than Bill, but he suddenly felt like a child again, wrapped in the comfort of Bills arms after a bad asthma attack or after Bowers gang got him. He feels safe, like no matter what happens Bill will protect him, Bill always knows what to do. 

Eddie isn’t a kid anymore, he doesn’t need people to hold his hand and tell him everything was going to be alright, but in that moment he wasn’t about to deny the comfort anymore than Bill was. 

“You’re not going to duh-d-die.” Bill said fiercely. “You’re not allowed to leave me like Stan.” 

“Okay,” Eddie said, his hands scrunching up the back of Bill’s shirt. “Okay.” 

They part, and with a sad smile Bill marches up to bed. Eddie follows him, slipping into Richie’s room after he knew Bill wasn’t watching. His husband was still asleep, barely shifting when Eddie crawled in beside him and wrapped his arms around his waist. 

“I love you,” Eddie whispered into the silence. “We’re going to be okay and I love you.” 

Richie didn’t reply, too lost in the world of sleep to hear him.

________________________________

Richie remembered that the barrens was the prime hang out spot as children. 

He can’t really quite remember why they loved to hang there, but he knew there was something here of importance, something that he needs to recall. 

The hike to get there wasn’t that much fun though. He wasn’t out of shape per se, but he definatly wasn’t in shape either. Eddie was a workaholic, and whenever he had time off of work he was either relaxing, or more likely out and about. He went for runs, hikes, walks, anything that would keep him healthy. Something about not wanting to be so inactive that he became obese and had a heart attack, Richie wasn’t paying attention. 

But what he was trying to get at was that Eddie was fit. The dude had a fucking six pack and Richie loved it more than he wanted to admit. Him on the other hand? Not that much. So when he had to hike 1.5km in the middle of a swamp or marsh or whatever the hell this thing is, he wasn’t a happy camper. 

“Hey Eddie,” He said, turning to Eddie who was staring around in wonder. “How many diseases do mosquitos carry?”

“Eleven in the United States,” Eddie muttered without thinking, then he frowned staring over at Richie in confusion. “Wait, what?” 

“Thanks Eds,” He said with a wink. Then to the rest of the group; “I think I’ve caught eleven different diseases guys.” 

“Is being a shitbrain a disease he can catch?” Beverly said, raising an eyebrow. 

“He caught that a while ago,” Eddie replied dryly. “I think he first contracted it when he was 2 years old, such a tragic story.” 

“Go fuck yourselves,” He said, but he was smiling too widely for the words to have any effect.

“We’re here,” Mike announced. 

“The barrens,” Ben breathed out, and there was a certain childlike joy to him, something that reminded Richie of a golden retriever. “The clubhouse right?” 

The memories clicked inside his mind that moment, like he never forgot it at all. It was like his mind expanded in the space of a second, and he remembered the little dugout hideaway they spent multiple summers in. Ben seemed to be glowing with happiness, bounding around the place to find where the secret opening was. 

“Twenty bucks says he falls in,” He whispers to Bev, who smacks his shoulder. 

“It should be right about-“ Ben said, walking forwards with purpose. He never gets to finish the sentence, because next thing they all know Ben was disappearing into the ground with a loud shout. 

“Called it,” Richie said, following as the other walked closer. 

“I found it!” Ben’s voice cried from below. “Come on down guys.” 

It’s just as Richie remembered, just a little dustier and dirtier. The hammock still swings in place, the radio and Ben’s hammer still lay abandoned on the floor. He can see his old comics shoved into a box in the back, posters still half hung on walls. 

Eddie wanders around, reaching into the floorboards and picking up the little ball he used to annoy the shit out of Stan with. Even after he broke the first one, Eddie was adamant about saving up and buying Ben a new one, which he then broke the next week. It was a never-ending cycle, one that all the losers found increasingly hilarious. 

While they were all reminiscing about their past, Richie walked into the dark corner, fascinated by how such a small room could have such a dead area of space. You couldn't see anything. He looked back at the others, taking in their sad faces and a part of his twisted. He knew that expression, he knew the feeling. He wanted to cheer them up, like he used to as a kid.

Maybe pretending to be the murderous clown everyone was scared shitless of wasn't the best way to do that, but he gave it an attempt either way. 

"He used to say that, remember?" Richie asked, watching all of their unimpressed stares. They weren't happy with him, but they were on longer thinking of whatever was making them all depressed as fuck, so he considered it a win. "He used to do that little dance?" 

He tried to mimic him, but he knew he probably just looked fucking stupid. 

"Are you going to be like this the entire time we're home?" Eddie asked, and Richie pasued in what he was doing. 

"Wow, guess I'll go fuck myself then, it's fine." He said, but the words were hollow. Eddie had looked away by now, but the words were still ringing in his head. 

Home. 

It did feel like home here. In some twisted way, Richie had been thinking that too, that he was home. Realistically, Richie knew where his home was. It was in LA, his larger than normal house with Eddie and Katz, hosting neighborhood parties monthy and laying in bed with Eddie to wind down after a long day. That was home, not this fucking town that reeked of evil. 

But it felt like home. And Richie wasn't really sure how to deal with that. 

They remised for a while, and it was almost nice, basking in the memories of their youth. And then Bill pulled out that goddamn shower cap. 

He could see Stan’s face, clear as day. The small soft smile tugging at his lips, the small shimmer in his eyes as he held it out to Richie. Richie remembered slapping it away, talking about how dumb the idea was. He never really thought that, he just didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of Eddie. Which was pathetic because Eddie knew better than anyone how big of an idiot he is. 

He remembered that every time Stan put that stupid thing into his hair Richie would tease him endlessly, and Stand would only smile and say that he better get a good enough shampoo to wash all the spiders out of his hair. It was all fun in games until a spider crawled into the container and Stan almost had a heart attack. Richie was the one who had to kill the thing, but he had to wait a few minutes because he was laughing so hard he started to cry. 

“I wonder what he was like,” Someone said, snapping him out of the memory. “As an adult.” 

“Just like he was as a kid,” Richie said automatically. He thought back to Stan talking him through his homework, Stan pointing out the best birds, Stan who was able to tell when Richie was upset and knew just how to cheer him up. Stan, Stan, Stan. “The best.” 

No one had a response to that. 

Mike explained the token things, how since Stan wasn’t there to get his own, they needed to get it for him. The shower caps were an easy pick, they symbolized his need to protect and care for his friends. That’s all Stan cared about, behind the dry humor and raised eyebrows, he cared about his friends, the only true family he ever had. 

They started to climb out of the clubhouse, and Richie ran his fingers against the worn-out fabric of the hammock. How many times had he overstayed his welcome here just because he knew Eddie would climb in after him? It was too many times to count. As a young, horrible repressed and pining child, the moments on the hammock were something to live for. Moments where he and Eddie could be close, could be intimate in a way no one would label as romantic. 

He turned to grin at his husband, sitting in the hammock and feeling a giddy rush of elation when it held under his weight. 

“You’ll probably still hog it,” Eddie grumbled, crossing his arms and stepping closer to the ladder out. “Not much has changed there.” 

“You know what else hasn’t changed?” Richie asked. “You joining me.” 

“What?” Eddie asked, but he didn’t have time to puzzle it out before Richie was darting forwards, grabbing Eddie’s shoulder and using the element of surprise to literally sweep him off his feet, sending the two of them crashing back. 

“Richie!” Eddie screeched, twisting and turning but Richie only laughed, holding on tighter as their adult bodies attempted to fit onto the child-sized hammock. “Let go of me you little mother fucking asshole.” 

Richie did not let go of him, not until Eddie struggled enough that the hammock was tipping over, spilling the two of them out onto the dirty ground. 

“Are you two done?” Mike asked with a soft smile on his lips. 

“Don’t act like I had any part in this mess,” Eddie grumbled, standing up and brushing himself off with a shudder before marching to the ladder. 

“Glad to see that some things never change,” Mike said with a wink, brushing past Richie to o up next. Richie didn’t even bother wasting brain cells trying to figure out what that meant. 

“We need to split up,” Mike said once they had all gathered once again. “Go regain your memories, find your tokens.” 

“Uh,” Richie spoke up. “Isn’t splitting up like the sure-fire way to die?” He had watched a fair amount of horror films as a kid, he knew these things. 

“I second that,” Eddie said. “Splitting up is a horrible idea.” 

“You need to do this alone; we weren’t always together that summer, you need to find your private memories,” Mike explained, with the patience of someone who knew he would be dealing with some very trying people. 

Richie vaguely remembered Bill punching him in the face. He wasn’t sure if he was still supposed to be mad about that. He decided not to be. 

“I guess we go alone then,” Ben said, shrugging. Richie could see the hesitation in his eyes though. He probably didn’t want to be alone no more than the rest of them did. 

“Off we go to certain doom!” Richie cheered sarcastically, causing the others to roll their eyes at him. He was used to it at this point. He started walking away with the rest of the group, planning on bugging Bill or Mike when Beverly, tapped his shoulder and jerked her head to the other way. Richie paused, watching as the rest of the loser’s filtered around them. 

Once everyone was a couple of feet ahead, Bev and him started following. 

“So,” Beverly said, bumping his shoulder. “Are you ever going to stop with the heart eyes or am I just going to be dealing with this all trip?” 

“I have no clue what your talking about Miss,” He said, waving a hand. “No heart eyes here, I'm heartless.” 

“Whatever you want to believe,’ She singsonged. “But I’ve been thinking about this.” 

“You’ve been thinking about me?” Richie gasped. “What am I wearing?” 

“Diving gear,” Bev replied smoothly. “I’ve been thinking about you and Eddie.” 

He tried to ignore the racing of his heart. Damn Bev and her ability to see past everything he did. A part of him was glad Stan wasn’t here, the dude had a way of knowing every lie Richie every said. He always was too observant for his own good.

“I was also thinking about my husband, Tom.” She continued. 

“Weird threesome idea but I’m down,” 

“Beep Beep,” Beverly sighed without missing a beat. “I was thinking about my relationship with him. He was awful, and now that I’m back here, I realized that I married my father.” 

“That’s fucking weird,” Richie said, not following. 

"I was thinking about it, and it's almost like I never got away from him. Like I left him and ran into the arms of my Dad 2.0. No matter what happened, I always ended up with him." 

Richie thought of how awful Bev's dad was, thought of the times Beverly would stay over at his house cause it wasn't safe at her own. 

"That's fucking depressing," He said, a tad softer.

“And I think that somehow this place left an imprint on us, and we went searching for bits of our own lives. I married my father, and honestly, after hearing the stories Eddie’s telling, I think he married his mother.” Bev said, a glint in her eyes. Richie swallowed harshly. Maybe Myra wasn’t a good pick for Eddie’s fake wife. She was too similar to Sonia after all. 

“Yeah,” Richie forced a laugh. “And Bill married you.” 

Beverly’s face fell slightly, but she never let Richie’s careless words stop her for long. 

“What I’m getting at,” She continued. “Is that it isn’t a healthy relationship, which means their chances of divorce are high, which means that you could still win him over.” 

“Are you trying to play matchmaker?” He asked, glancing over to her. When they finally told her she was going to flip. 

“Maybe,” She shrugged. “I remember you guys as kids, sue me for wanting you to be happy.” 

“Bev,” He sighed, shaking his head. Maybe he should have told her the truth from the start. Her outrageous attempts at getting them together is not something he wants to deal with. 

“Buy him flowers,” She insisted. “His favorite ones are-“ 

“Pansies,” Richie whispered at the same time, and Bev lifted her eyebrows. He only shrugged. Eddie loved pansies, in fact, he loved them so much that he insisted on them being their wedding flowers. He grew them all around the house, they were dog safe, so Katz often ate them, but Richie knew that Eddie didn’t mind as much as he pretended to. 

“You are hopeless,” She sighed, and Richie honestly was feeling a bit attacked at this moment. 

“Well, what about you?” He countered. “Who are you going for, Bill or Ben?” 

“Richie!” She scolded, her cheeks staining red. “Why do you always have to be such an asshole?” 

“Come with the package darlin’, you have to learn to deal with it.” He said, swooping in and kissing her on the cheek. “Now let’s go relive our worst childhood memories and get terrorized by the creepiest Ronald McDonalds clown known to man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys get a pick for the next chapter. Whos memories do you want to see first, Eddie or Richie??


	5. Honey, your familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a demand for both, but I had so many ideas for how I was going to change Richie's whole thing so I just had to write his. Eddie should be out soon though!! Cause I love him. 
> 
> But I always figured the Losers would have had more than one flashback, so you get not one, not two, but three whole flashbacks in this chapter!!

Mike had tried his best to make it clear what he wanted to do. But at the same time, Richie had no fucking idea where he was supposed to go. 

Was he supposed to wander until he found something? Or was he supposed to know where to go? Would Mike be mad if he just followed Eddie around? By what memories he had already gained, it seemed like that was one of his favorite pastimes, wandering around to annoy the shit out of Eddie. 

But by the time they all made it out of the Barrens, Eddie had disappeared, heading off one way before Richie could even register him moving. The rest of them slowly spread out too, none of them looking like they particularly wanted to leave the group either. But they all did, because the one thing they wanted more than this was to kill the fucking clown. 

Richie just wanted to do it without coming into contact with the clown in the first place. 

His memories of that summer were still somewhat blurry, like he was looking back on his life through a warped lens. He could recall most of them, the hunting in the sewers, the experience in that stupid house, everything else that occurred between him and the clown, but it was all hazy. The in-betweens were off too. 

What did he do after Bill punched him? What did he do after the first few sightings? He could barely remember going home, did he ever go home? He had to have gone home. 

Before he knew what was happening, his feet were wandering down the path that he knew led him towards his childhood home. 

The rows and rows of houses that lined the street looked almost dead. He figured most people were out at whatever fair was going on, but it was still a bit spooky just how empty the place was. He remembered as a child he would race through the streets, obnoxiously waving and yelling at the other families and children on the streets. 

Back then there was always someone out and about, either an old lady watering her plants, a mom watching her kids play ball, a father smoking as he read the newspaper. They would always either roll their eyes at him, of wave cheerfully back. Now there was no one. 

He wasn’t sure how long he walked, but before he knew it he had landed right in front of his old house. It looked just as it did as a kid, just with the color a bit more faded and no flowers brightly blooming in the lawn. 

Suddenly, the door opened and out tumbled a little boy wearing an oversized coat, tripping over his own feet in his haste to leave. 

“I’m going mom!” He cried over his shoulder, and a woman stood behind him, a soft smile on her face. 

“Be safe!” She called out after him, shaking her head as the little boy nearly fell as he attempted to turn and wave at her while he continued to move. 

The flashback was not something he was expecting, and it hit him like a storm. 

_ “Look at my little boy all grown up,” Maggie cooed, her hands reaching out to ruffle Richie’s hair. _

_“Mom!” He complained, smacking her hand away. “I’m just going to school, it’s not that big of a deal.” _

_“But you’re so grown up,” Wentworth said, standing behind his wife. “You’re going to start to have to do chores now.” _

_“Gross,” Richie said, scrunching up his nose. He stepped out the door, jumping down all four of the steps leading to the door. “Bill’s here already, I have to go.” _

_“Did you remember your lunch?” Maggie called out after him. “Your supplies?” _

_“Yes mom,” He called back, picking up his bike and waving, his glasses slipping down his nose. “I’ll see you guys later!” _

_With that, he was biking down the road, towards his friends who were at the end of the street._

“Are you okay mister?” Someone asked, and Richie blinked, and just like that the extremely vivid scene from his past blew away like smoke, and he was back in the present, staring down at the curly-headed kid in front of him. 

“Oh, yeah,” He said, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” 

“Yup,” The kid said, and without another word he was gone, biking as fast as he could away from him. 

Richie stared after the kid, his realities blurring as he saw his younger self also peddling away, the rest of the losers beside him. 

He let out a long breath, his hands coming up to rub at his eyes as he exhaled. 

Mike wasn’t kidding when he said he needed to experience their childhood firsthand. That whole thing was so vivid and lifelike that Richie honestly felt like he was standing there, watching his parents send him off to school. 

Fuck, he wished he stayed in contact with them more. They were nothing but good to him, if not a little confused. Richie knew his mom wanted a girl, that she found him a little hard to relate and talk to, but she had done her best. She had supported him through everything and never once raised her voice at him. His father was in the same boat, he found it hard to connect with Richie, but he was the only one who every fully supported his voices. He had fond memories of the two of them practicing in the basement, giggling as they both failed miserably to try and sound like someone else. 

He hadn’t talked to them face to face since he left town to go to LA, Eddie sleeping soundly in his passenger seat. They had sent letters sometimes, updating him on their life. His mom died sometimes in the 2000s but it was right when his career had launched, and he was constantly on tour. He wasn’t even aware of the funeral until after it happened. His father hadn’t messaged him since. 

Richie sighed, turning and walking away from the house, the memories of his parents fading away into the background. He had learned nothing from there, had no token, no idea’s where to go, no nothing. 

He wandered aimlessly, past streets of houses that had no meaning to him at all. Somehow his feet knew where to guide him, and before he knew what he was doing he was standing in front of Eddie’s old house, the one-story building run down and broken. 

Apparently, no one had bothered to buy it since Mrs. K passed, so the paint was falling off, the window was boarded, and it was in such a state of disrepair that he was glad Eddie didn’t wander down this way. He'd have a fit.

Just like last time, the vision hit him out of nowhere, but it was a lot more welcomed this time. 

_ “You think she’d let him out?” Richie asked, his head cocked slightly to the side. _

_“We both know that after his attack last night Mrs. K wouldn’t let him out of that room for the end of the world.” Stand replied dryly. _

_“Well that won’t fucking work,” Richie said, putting his bike on the ground. “You stay here, I’m going to James Bond it.” _

_“Poor Eddie won’t ever get out of the house now,” Stan said, but didn’t say anything more as Richie flipped him off and snuck around the back of the house. _

_Richie already knew which window was Eddie’s, this wasn’t his first rodeo when dealing with the helicopter parenting skills of Sonia. He knocked lightly on the window, letting his smaller friend know he was there before he slipped his fingers under the crack and lifted it up. _

_Eddie had grown used to leaving a tiny sliver of the window open for him, since Richie had gotten into the habit of sneaking into his house every now and then. Sometimes he wouldn’t even bother with the window if it was late enough, walking through the front door and waving to a half-asleep Mrs. K as he went. But today the window was required. _

_He climbed into to room, his ridiculously large Hawaiian shirt catching on the latch and causing him to tumble head over heels, falling into a heap in the bottom of the window sill. He looked up, Eddie standing over him with an unimpressed look on his face. _

_“Graceful,” He said, unamused. Richie was gearing himself up for some sort of comeback when they both heard the pounding of feet that symbolled Mrs. K walking over. She probably heard the thunk. Before Richie knew what was happening, Eddie was grabbing his arm and dragging him over to the side, shoving him into the closet and slamming the door shut. _

_Richie could hear him darting back across the room, the rustle of blankets proving that he had jumped into bed as fast as he could. Richie slapped a hand over his mouth, hoping he wasn’t being obnoxiously loud when breathing. _

_Richie heard the click of a lock, and the door was slowly creaking open. He peeked out of the sliver of space in between the doors, watching as Mrs. K entered the room. _

_“Is everything okay Eddie-bear?” She asked in a sickly-sweet voice. Richie had always pretended to like Sonia in an overly exaggerated and disgusting way, but in truth, everything about her made him sick. The way she talked to Eddie as if he was a pet, the way she refused to let him go out sometimes, the way she smothered him every chance she got. _

_Richie knew Eddie, knew that he wasn’t as frail as Mrs. K made him believe. He had seen Eddie run, and when that kid wanted to, he was easily one of the fastest of them all, short as he was. _

_“Yes Mommy,” Eddie replied. “Everything’s fine.” _

_“I thought I heard something,” She said, her voice thick with suspicion. “Why is your window open?” _

_She rushed across the room, closing it with a slam and locking it tightly, Richie saw as Eddie flinched slightly behind her back, and Richie cursed both of their oversight. _

_“You could get sick with that open,” She scolded, turning around to Eddie, who school his face into his normal look of indifference and slightly pathetic-ness. “You could catch a cold, some virus could come sweeping in, oh Eddie after yesterday you should be a lot more careful than that.” _

_“It was warm in here,” Eddie lied, and Richie had to give him credit, the dude could pull one over his moms’ head if he tried hard enough. “I just wanted some cool air.” _

_“I’ll turn down the heat,” Mrs. K said. “But you are not to open that window again do you hear me?” _

_“Yes mommy,” Eddie said, his head turning to look down, his hands clasped in front of him. _

_“Good,” Mrs. K sighed. “You sometimes can be so reckless, it’s like you want to get sick.” _

_“I don’t!” Eddie cried, his head snapping back up. ‘I promise.” _

_“I believe you darling,” Mrs. K said, shaking her head. “Just be more careful.” _

_She made to leave, bustling back towards the door. _

_“Hey, mommy?” Eddie asked last minute, and his mom stopped at the door, not even bothering to turn around. “Can I go out with my friends?” _

_“No,” She said easily. “You are to stay inside of the rest of the weekend, and if you’re not better by Monday I will take you to the hospital. Now get some rest.” _

_With that she walked out the door, and Richie heard the click of a lock engaging once again. _

_The two of them waited for a long moment, neither moving until hey heard the sounds of her soap opera starting again. Richie let out a laugh, pushing open the closet door and walking out into the light. _

_“That went well,” He singsonged, smiling widely at Eddie, who glared at him. _

_“Keep quiet you idiot,” He hissed. “She’s already heard you once.” _

_“She won’t hear me over the tv,” He dismissed bounding over to the bed and jumping on it. Eddie’s frown increased. “We’re going to the arcade.” _

_“I’m not allowed to leave,” Eddie said stubbornly. _

_“Being allowed is a social construct,” Richie waved his hand. “I’m here to break you out of this hellhole.” _

_“Richie,” Eddie sighed, looking down, a sad look coming over his face. “I don’t know, after yesterday I don’t want to risk it.” _

_“You had one little asthma attack,” Richie rolled his eyes. “Bill was able to stop it before it got too bad, your mom is freaking out over nothing.” _

_“She’s my mom though,” Eddie stressed. “She knows what’s best.” _

_“Come on,” Richie said with a groan. “It’s not the same without you, it’s boring without you to pester.” _

_“Pester Stan,” _

_“Stan isn’t as easy to rile up as you are,” Richie whined, collapsing on his back beside Eddie. “Please Eds? For me?” _

_“Don’t call me Eds.” _

_“You love it,” Richie replied, his cheeks heating up slightly as Eddie laid beside him, their arms pressed together. _

_“I don’t want to stay cooped up in here,” Eddie admitted lowly. “But she would flip if I left. I wouldn’t be able to see the light ever again.” _

_“Then we’d break you out then too,” Richie said, something bubbling up inside his chest. “We’re not letting you go Eds, no matter where you go, where she locks you up, we’ll follow you.” _

_The silence sat around them for a long moment, and Eddie’s lips curled into a smile before he sat up urgently. _

_“Let’s go,” He said, his chin lifting up. _

_“Wait,” Richie blinked. “Really?” _

_“Yeah,” Eddie said, grinning. “Get your ugly ass off the bed and moving before I change my mind.” _

_“Alright!” Richie cheered, nearly falling off the bed in his haste to get back up. The two of them slipped out the window together, giggling and they ran to the front of the house where Stan was still waiting._

_“Took you two long enough to get out of there, what were you too busy making out?” Stan asked, standing up and stretching out his arms. Eddie turned bright red, and it was so cute that Richie almost reached out to pinch his cheeks over it. _

_“Yup,” Richie said brightly. “I ran into Mrs. K and she just couldn’t resist me, just had to pause to let her-“ _

_“Beep beep Richie,” Stan and Eddie said at the same time. _

_“Where are we going again?” Eddie said, wheeling out his bike from the side of the house, glancing back momentarily to make sure his mom wasn’t watching. _

_“The arcade,” Richie said instantly. _

_“Of course,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “That’s the only place you every go.” _

The image faded from his eyes, and Richie blinked, smiling softly to himself. How many times had he gone to Eddie’s house to sneak him out since then? They had done it the last day too, Eddie too afraid that his mom would be able to change his mind if he told her he was leaving. 

But there was also something even more important from there, and memory that was only now surfacing in his mind. 

The arcade. The only cool place to go in the entire deadbeat town. 

He had spent hours in there, when he wasn’t bothering Eddie or any of the other losers. It was his home away from home, where he spent hours playing street fighter and beating every record he set the day before. 

Richie started walking towards town, determined to find the place and see what had become of it. He had a feeling it would be as glorious as it was a child.

__________________________

It looked like a shithole. 

It had clearly been closed for years, the windows boarded up and the sign faded and broken. 

He still broke into it, because a little run-down place didn’t scare him. 

It still looked just how he remembered, just a lot less lively and a lot greyer. The popcorn machine even had popcorn in it, although it was clearly very very stale. On a whim, he reached towards the token machine, a soft smile on his lips as he pressed the button, a small coin clinging out onto the release. 

He laughed, reaching down to pick it up as another vision came through. 

_Richie had never been happier. _

_His friends had all pretty much ditched him, Eddie firmly confined to him room, not answering any of Richie’s attempts of contact. And he was still majorly pissed at Bill. Stan was in a mood too, making him no fun to hang out with, and Mike was working, Ben was moping, and Beverly seemed to be firmly on Bill’s side of things. Which meant he was pretty much alone. _

_It sucked, to say the least. _

_But he spent most of his time at the Aladdin, either playing games or watching movies. He would probably continue to do so until he ran out of money. _

_He met a boy there, with curly brown hair and a big smile. He was willing to play streetfighter, and despite himself, Richie enjoyed it. _

_He knew it was wrong, shameful almost, but every time the boy laughed his stomach fluttered, and every smile they shared made Richie feel like some sort of celebrity. _

_“Your good,” The kid said, handing Richie a coin, their hands touching and Richie swore he felt like a million bucks. “See you later.” _

_Richie found he really didn’t want the boy to go. He wanted to keep playing, to stay in the bubble of happiness that he had created. _

_“Wait!” He said, stopping the boy as he left. “D-do you want to play again?” He said, almost shyly. He was never shy. “If you want to of course.” _

_The boy looked like he wanted to, a small smile tugging on his lips, before he glanced to the side, and with dread curling in his stomach Richie realized that Henry fucking Bowers had decided to walk into the room. _

_“Stop being weird man,” The kid said, shame curling in his eyes even as disgust clouded his features. _

_“If it isn’t Richie fucking Tozier,” Henry said, stepping closer. Richie stepped back, ready to dart out and unsure why he hadn’t already fled. “Are you trying to bone my little cousin?” _

_Great, out of every fucking boy in this stupid fucking town he managed to pick Bower’s little brother. Just his fucking luck. _

_“I-“ He stammered, unable to force any words out of his mouth. He hadn’t been trying to do that right? He wasn’t a filthy queer; he swore that he wasn’t._

_“What are you waiting for?” Henry hissed, stamping forwards. “Get out of here you little fag!” _

_Richie turned and walked out, bumping into some people along the way, Henry’s words bouncing around his head. _

Richie took a deep breath, unsure of why his heart was pounding so hard. He had almost forgotten how awful it was, to be faced with such blatant homophobia, having slurs thrown at him every which way. 

He walked out of the door, leaving the memories of Henry’s words behind him. 

He found himself following in his younger self’s footsteps, wandering around until he was at the park, that stupid Paul Bunyan statue staring at him, almost like it was mocking him. 

Richie didn’t have to think hard to remember the moving statue, the swinging farm instrument, the rotting out grin. 

_”You’re not real, it’s not real!”_

Richie shuttered, looking around, his head feeling slightly stuffy. 

Someone ran into him, shoving something into his hands. He glanced up, ready to snap at whoever it was. 

But there was something familiar about the two people walking away from him, their hands clasped tightly together. 

The first one, who was wearing a nice flashy jacket, turned around, displaying his rotting out face and dead eyes. 

He knew that face. 

Adrian, the kid who had been viciously killed only days ago. Blood was soaked into his side, and his smile was sharp, disgusting, vile. 

“Hope to see you there handsome,” He hissed, before turning around. 

Richie looked down quickly, his eyes landing on the page, it was advertising a funeral. 

His own funeral. 

He looked up at the two men, only to find the second man stopped, staring right at him. 

Richie’s breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering with fear as he stared into those too familiar brown eyes. 

It was Eddie. Eddie with a rotting hole in his chest, blood covering his shirt, black bile running down his chin, a hold in his cheek and maggots crawling in between the flesh. 

Richie felt like he was going to puke. 

“I’ll see you there baby,” Eddie whispered, his voice sounding just like the real Eddie’s voice, soft and sweet but not without a bite of passion and fire. Richie felt his mouth go dry and Eddie walked backwards, his thin skeletal hand reaching up to his dry cracking lips, where he blew a kiss to Richie before he turned and walked away. 

That’s when he heard it, the faint sound of carnival music, one that sent goosebumps running up his skin. 

“Want to play a game, Richie?” Its voice said, and Richie turned back to that goddamn statue, where that stupid fucking clown was perched on the shoulder, balloons held tightly in his hand. “I missed you so much, no one wants to play games with a clown anymore.” 

“Oh my god,” He said, the words falling out of his lips as he stepped back. He wasn’t sure why but the fear had gripped him tighter than he ever felt, and he was sure his heart was going to beat out of his chest. 

How had he managed to let Bill and Mike convince him into staying here? He was going to die at the hands of this stupid clown and he hadn’t even been able to tell Eddie he loved him one last time. He hadn’t been able to share one more drink with Lindsay, hadn’t been able to cuddle with Katz again, he hadn’t been able to do any of the things he needed to do. 

“Wanna play streetfighter?” The clown asked, his eyes glowing yellow as he grinned. “Or what about truth or dare?” 

Richie stepped back another step, unable to speak, unable to snap his eyes away from the horrors in front of him. 

“But oh,” Pennywise cooed. “You wouldn’t want anyone to pick truth would you? Wouldn’t want anyone to find about your dirty little secret?” 

“What the fuck,” Richie said, as the clown jumped off the statue, floating to the ground. 

“Wouldn’t want anyone to know about you and the wheezy would you? The sickness you both have?” Pennywise giggled, a hand reaching up as if to cover his mouth, but it wasn’t large enough to hide the hideous smile. “I know your secret!” He singsonged. “Your dirty little secret! It’ll get you both killed!” 

Then the clown was gone, just like that he faded from his eyes, and yet Richie couldn’t find it inside himself to relax, to truly believe he was gone. He darted around in a circle, looking at the townspeople staring eerily at him, blank looks in all their eyes. Clearly, the clown wasn’t gone yet. 

“Richie!” A voice cried out, and Richie’s blood went cold. “Richie please!” It was Eddie’s voice, high and panicked almost like he was having an asthma attack. He turned around to the source of the voice, his eyes locking onto Eddie, who was pressed into the ground, the clown standing over him, a foot pressed against his husband’s chest. 

“You ever wonder what his inside look like on the outside?” Pennywise giggled, leaning down, his clawed hands dragging up and down Eddie’s chest. 

“Eds!” Richie cried out, instinctually stumbling closer, panic clouding his rational thought. “Eddie!” 

The clown’s hands were covering his husbands face, looking so similar to how they were when they were in that house when they were younger. 

“Richie please,” Eddie was begging, tears running down his cheeks as he stared desperately at him. “Help me Richie please.” 

He sounded so scared, so hopeless and Richie wanted to shoot that clown away from him, wanted to hold Eddie close and rock him side to side until his husband had calmed down. 

“This is your fault.” Eddie hissed. 

Not Eddie. 

That wasn’t Eddie, it was all some big trick. 

“You infected me!” Eddie cried, and Pennywise’s hands were traveling again, running daintily over the ret of Eddie’s body. It made him sick. “You took me away from home and infected me, you made me dirty! Made me a dirty little queer like you!” 

“Stop it,” Richie gasped, stumbling back. “Stop it!” 

Pennywise grinned at him, his clawed hand raising up and up and before Richie could react it was plunging into Eddie’s chest. 

“No!” He screamed despite himself, his feet still somehow glued in place. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as blood started to bubble out of Eddie’s mouth, couldn’t look away as Eddie choked to death on it. 

“Your fault,” Eddie hissed out weakly, his voice gurgling as he choked on his own lifeblood. "If it wasn't for you, I would still be alive." His head lolled to the side, his brown eyes going dark. Richie felt sick. 

“This isn’t real,” He whispered, watching sickly as Pennywise dragged his nails down, slicing Eddie open like he was a frog on a dissecting table. Pennywise laughed, his other hand reaching in and pulling out Eddie’s heart. 

“Is this not real enough for you Richie my boy?” The clown asked, his lips pulling up as he opened his mouth and reached down, teeth ripping into Eddie’s heart. 

“This isn’t real!” Richie cried, his eyes slamming shut. “It isn’t real! It isn’t real! It isn’t real!” 

Everything was quiet. 

The music had stopped, and he could hear no breathing coming from the clown, couldn’t hear the gargle of blood pouring from Eddie’s corpse. 

It wasn’t real. 

Richie opened his eyes. 

He found himself staring into the clown’s yellow eyes, his teeth and mouth stained with Eddie’s blood, dripping onto the ground at Richie’s feet. 

“Boo!” The clown whispered, and Richie reared back, the scream getting caught in his throat as he fell backwards and he knew this was it, this was how he died. 

He landed on the grass, his eyes closing as he raised a hand, waiting to feel the teeth ripping into him, waiting to feel the clown tear into him and he was almost surprised when nothing happened. 

His eyes flew open-

And no one was there. 

He laid back into the grass, just like he had as a kid, his heart still pounding as he breathed heavily. 

He couldn’t help but see Eddie lying on the grass, blood bubbling out of his mouth and Its hand in his chest. 

_It’s your fault_

It sounded so real, felt so real and Richie knew that he needed to go back. He needed to get Eddie and leave. 

He wouldn’t allow It to get to Eddie, wouldn’t allow it to feast on his goddamn heart like Richie just watched. He won’t allow Eddie to die, won’t allow himself to die.

This was a horrible idea. There was no killing It, there was no getting rid of It. 

They would die if they left. But they would die a whole heck of a lot faster if they stayed. 

Richie pushed himself to his feet, staring at the spot where fake Eddie had been moments ago and he felt like throwing up, he felt like running and hiding and crying. 

Instead he turned and walked back towards the townhouse. 

He needed to pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I suck at writing horror but hopefully it wasn't that bad lmao.


	6. Like my mirror long ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eddie's is a bit late. But it's here! I'm not as happy with it as I was with Richie's, but I still enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Warning for slight homophobic language and Patrick Hocksetter being a bit of a creep.

Eddie didn’t know why, but he booked it away from the rest of the Losers once they were out of the Barrens. 

He just couldn’t sit still anymore, couldn’t stand to sit around with the rest of them as they all worried about what was happening. Before he even knew what he was doing there was a sharp tug in his gut and he started moving. 

He made his way through town, hating the fact that everyone seemed to be in a patriotic mood, wearing stupid clothes that declared their love for Derry, floats driving through town. He hated it. Hated this town. Hated that clown. 

He found himself in front of the missing bridge. 

He walked around the place, his fingers running over the side, over the carved words and letters. Every single one was some random teen or kid, professing their love to people they might not be able to tell about it yet. Eddie smiled, his fingers darting over the letters he knew so well. 

One night before Richie and him were planning on leaving, he had snuck out to the bridge, a pocket knife held firmly in his hand. He had carved something simple, the letter ‘R’ with a heart around it. At the time he wasn’t sure why, he just knew that he was leaving and he wanted to have one piece of himself imprinted in this town, one last memory of himself for people to see. 

He turned around and walked away, stopping at the end of the bridge. There was a tickling inside his head, almost like something was crawling around his brain, begging to be let out. 

Before he knew what was happening, the scene around him changed, and he found himself tumbling down the rabbit hole and into a memory he had long forgotten.

_ He was late again. _

_His mom had put up an extra big fuss about him leaving that morning, insisting that he needed to stay, that they hadn’t had any mommy-son time lately. But Eddie had promised to meet Richie, Bill, and Stan the day before, and he was dammed if he was going to let his mom stop him. _

_He had decided to cut past the kissing bridge, knowing that if he did he would get to the barrens so much faster. They were planning on going from there into town for a bit, and Eddie was actually pretty excited about it. He just needed to get there first, and the fastest way to do that was through the kissing bridge._

_It was a bad idea. He had for some reason forgotten that Henry and his gang had a tendency to hang around the bridge, waiting for any unsuspecting kids to show up. _

_So he shouldn’t have been as surprised when something was hitting his bike, sending him skidding to the side, and he fell onto the gravel, his elbow stinging painfully. _

_“What the fuck?” He hissed, looking up, gazing right into the face of Patrick Hocksetter. _

_Eddie had been scared before, has been plenty scared ever since this whole missing kid thing went on, but there was something about Patrick that terrified him to his very core. Something that was deeply unsettling about the boy. _

_“Why hello wheezy boy,” Patrick cooed, his eyes alight with something Eddie didn’t want to identify. “Where are you going in such a hurry?” _

_“Go away Patrick,” He said, his voice shaking pathetically. “You don’t scare me.” _

_“You look scared,” Patrick said innocently, crouching down close to him. His hand reached up, dragging a sharp fingernail over his cheek. Eddie shivered at the touch. “I can practically smell the fear you little pussy.”_

_Eddie couldn’t come up with a response, his breath starting to wheeze out painfully. Fuck, he was about to have an asthma attack and his fanny pack seemed so far away, despite being clipped to his waist. _

_“Please let me go,” Eddie wheezed, his voice barely loud enough to be heard._

_“I think you need to learn a lesson,” Patrick giggled, and before Eddie knew what was happening he was flicking out a switchblade, holding it up to Eddie’s neck. “You little faggots shouldn’t be wandering around here all alone.” _

_He pressed the knife in further, the blade digging into Eddie’s skin and he didn’t dare to even attempt to breathe, knowing if he moved even the tiniest little bit, his throat would slip open. _

_“Are you afraid yet?” Patrick hissed, a bright grin slipping across his face. Eddie couldn’t help the few tears that slipped down his cheek. _

_He heard someone in the distance, the squeal of bike tires and then his name being shouted. _

_“Eddie!” It sounded like Richie, and sure enough, when his eyes darted to the side, he could see his friends riding up, jumping off their bikes and running towards him. “Get off of him you fucker!” _

_Patrick grinned, and before Eddie knew what was happening he was being tugged to his feet, the knife still at his throat. _

_“Well, if it isn’t the rest of the little loser squad?” He hissed. “Should I gut you all right here? Fitting isn’t it? Kissing bridge. You all probably sneak out here at night to get nasty you little queers.” _

_“F-fuck off!” Bill shouted, rage shining in his eyes. Stan’s face was skillfully blank, but Eddie could see the anger simmering behind them. _

_“This is a warning,” Patrick said carefully, the knife pulling away from his neck, Eddie whimpered despite himself. Patrick sliced it over his open arm, and Eddie cried out, the warm blood dripping down his skin making him feel sick. “I’ll see you later losers.” _

_With that, Patrick dropped him, turning and walking away, as if he knew none of them would follow him. _

_He was right. _

_All three of his friends dropped to their knees before him, all scrambling to grab at him and make sure he was alright. _

_“I’ll kill him,” Richie declared, anger and worry shimmering through his eyes. “I’ll fucking kill him.” _

_“Duh-don’t d-do it without muh-me.” Bill stammered, his fingers digging into Eddie’s shoulder. It didn’t hurt, in fact, it felt secure, safe. _

_“Are you okay?” Stan asked quickly, and Eddie’s eyes were pulled to his friend, who only had worry simmering in his eyes now. His fingers gently ghosted over the cut on his neck, then the one on his arm. He didn’t touch it, and Eddie was grateful for that. “It doesn’t look that bad, won’t need to be stitched or anything.” _

_“It could get infected,” He said pathetically, tears were still falling down his face, and he felt like such a baby. “M-my mom’s going to freak.” _

_“I could distract her for you,” Richie said with a grin. He had recently decided that super inappropriate jokes were his specialty. “We could get into some really kinky stuff that makes her forget all about you.” _

_“Shut up,” Eddie sighed, but there was a bubble around him, one that felt like safety and love. _

_“We’ll take you to my house,” Stan decided. “I have a first aid kit, and my parents are out right now so they won’t mind.” _

_‘Thanks Stan,” Eddie said, his shoulders dropping. “Sorry for ruining the plan.” _

_“Yuh-you d-didn’t ru-ruin anything,” Bill said firmly, helping Eddie to his feet. _

_“Yeah Eddie,” Stan said with a soft smile. “We’re all together, that’s the important thing right?” _

_“Us losers,” Richie said with a grin. “We gotta stick together, no matter what than entails.”_

Eddie shook himself out of the flashback, quickly turning his back on the bridge. That was only one occasion of many many times Bower’s gang had gotten to one of them. For some reason, their little group of losers was their favorite targets. Eddie had forgotten how much hate he had stored in himself for those men. He was glad that Henry was rotting away in a mental hospital, and Patrick was dead anyways. 

He glanced at his watch, he had ordered an inhaler prescription, knowing the tightening in his chest was fake but it felt real enough for him. He wanted the childish comfort of the metal in his hand. 

He wandered back into town, picking his way across the seats to find the pharmacy he always went to. Ever since he was nine years old, when his mom finally let him go get his own prescriptions, he had walked this path religiously every week. 

Every week there was a new prescription, a new refill, a new something that she had noticed and gaslighted Eddie into believing that he had. Sometimes it was the only time he was even let out of the house. 

He wandered down the street, his eyes flipping over to the alleyway where the losers used to hang in, and just like last time, the flashback came unannounced and quickly. 

_”Hurry up Eddie,” His mom said. “We’re late and you need your medicine.” _

_“Five minutes won’t kill me mom” Eddie sighed, even as he picked up the pace. _

_In fact, not taking his medicine wouldn’t kill him at all. Last summer, after their fight with It when he broke his arm, Mr. Keene pulled him into the backroom, showing him how he filled his inhaler. _

_It was all shit, all of it fake. Gazebos. Placebos. Just the thought made anger roll around in his gut. _

_He and his mom got into the worst screaming match they ever had, but in the end, they had to come up with a compromise. Eddie would continue to take the stupid sugar pills, and his mom would let him go play with his friends. _

_If he refused, well, she had proved to not be above literally locking him into his room. She had before, the few days he dared to challenge her rules. She had a lock on the outside of his door, and would often lock it some days that she didn’t want him getting out. _

_Of course, he still snuck out the window, but it wouldn’t be long before she locked that too. _

_So he swallowed the pills, even when the action made him feel even sicker than he felt without them. He felt like he was choking down lies, every little pill piling up in his stomach until one day he would simply stop breathing. _

_But he took them, because it was worth it to go down to the barrens. Because it was worth it to play stupid games with his friends. Because the little slivers of freedom he got were more than worth it. _

_“Eddie?” A voice called out, and he turned to the alleyway, seeing Mike slip out the door, shoving some money into his jeans with an easy smile. “How are you doing?” _

_“I’m great Mikey,” Eddie said, instantly relaxing. He always felt better around any of the losers, but Mike always had an aura of calmness radiating from him at all times. Even with his mom looming in the background snuffing out the light, at least his friend was here. “Making your runs?” _

_“Yup,” Mike nodded, his eyes darting out to behind him. “You coming to the Barren’s tomorrow? Bill said he’s bringing Yahtzee.” _

_“Of course,” Eddie said with a grin. _

_“Absolutely not,” Sonia said a moment later, and Eddie felt himself crumble a little bit. “You’re going on a new medication, and you need at least one day to make sure that you don’t react horribly to it.” _

_“We’ll be careful Miss.” Mike spoke up, his voice polite. “We can even go over to your house if your concerned about Eddie’s reactions.” _

_Eddie cringed slightly at the idea. Hanging out with his friends with Sonia hovering threateningly in the background didn’t sound like a lot of fun. _

_“We have an agreement Mommy,” Eddie said gently, but firmly. He had been getting more used to standing up to her now that he was getting older. It never worked well, and it always backfired, but sometimes he won a battle or two. “I’m honoring it, and so should you.” _

_“We’ll talk about it,” She said in a voice that firmly suggested that they wouldn’t. _

_“Mom!” He protested, but she grabbed his arm tightly in her pudgy hands. _

_“We’ll talk about it Eddie,” She said, starting to drag him down the street. He looked back hopelessly at Mike, who waved slightly, an apologetic smile on his face. Mike understood, Mike always understood. _

_“Mommy please,” Eddie whispered, as his mom’s grip suddenly got a lot tighter on his arm. “You’re hurting me.” _

_“You shouldn’t be spending time with a boy like that,” She said fiercely, like she didn’t hear him. “Did you know his parents were crackheads?” She continued, and Eddie felt anger start to pool in his stomach. _

_“Mom,” He said warningly. “Don’t say that.” _

_“They killed themselves because they had to get their next high,” She continued, tutting to herself. “Lit their entire house on fire with their little son inside.” _

_“You don’t even smoke crack,” Eddie continued. _

_“You shouldn’t be around him,” Sonia continued. “What if he carries their diseases? Do you know how many different illnesses’s come from needles? They probably had aids.” _

_“Mom!” He said loudly, pulling his arm away from her grip. There were angry red fingerprints imprinted on his arm. They would probably bruise. “He is my friend; don’t you dare talk about him like that.” _

_With that he turned to storm away, angry tears fighting past his eyes. He ignored them. Maybe if he walked fast enough he would be able to accompany Mike home, make sure his friend got home safely. He could hear his mom in the background, crying and begging him to stop, to come back. She was insisting that he was just sick, that he needed his pills and he’d feel better after. _

_A year ago he wouldn’t have turned, wouldn’t have even stormed away in the first place. He used to be compliant, listening to her every word. But something had snapped that summer, probably his sanity. That fucking clown had messed with his mind, as well as learning that his entire life had been one big lie. So maybe a year ago he would have collapsed into her tears and pleads, but now? Now he was just frustrated. Annoyed. Hurt. He couldn’t do this anymore. _

_He didn’t turn around. _

_He kept walking, and sure enough, walking with his bike as if he was expecting Eddie to come back, Mike was still near the store, grinning at him lazily. _

_“Took you long enough,” He said, and the two of them fell into step together. “She looked pissed.” _

_“I probably won’t be able to leave my room tomorrow,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes. He could help but fidget slightly, his hand reaching down to pat at his inhaler, ensuring it was there. He didn’t really need it, but the comfort it provided stopped him from throwing it away._

_“Guess we’ll just have to watch Richie crawl through your window again,” Mike said with a snort. “He won’t let anyone else do it.” _

_“He just likes having the extra time to annoy me,” Eddie said, a smile tugging up his lips. “It’s his favorite pastime.” _

_Mike laughed, a warm pleasant sound that made Eddie grin. This was what living felt like. Being surrounded by his friends, hearing them laugh, feeling the bubbly feeling of joy pounding in his stomach. Living wasn’t being locked in his room. It wasn’t being lied to and force-fed pills. _

_He loved his mom, of course he did, but maybe, just maybe, he loved his friends a little more._

Eddie blinked, shaking his head as he continued to move. Funny how all these memories could come back so fast, even when he didn’t remember them ages ago. 

He remembered hating his mom, being young and naive and pissed the fuck off. A part of him still hated her, still shivered whenever he thought of her, but the other part only felt pity. 

She was sick, had been sick for years. She had lost her husband, and was left alone with her young son. She had gone crazy, and Eddie got that. He knew what it was like to be so afraid of losing someone you would do anything for them. 

Of course, he would never dream of hurting any of his friends or Richie like she had hurt him. She had lied, had manipulated him, made him feel gross and dirty. The thought of himself doing any of that to Richie? Well, it made him sick. 

He knew he would leave before that happened. As much as it would hurt, he would rather live a life without Richie than put him through what Eddie went through as a kid. 

He was willing to die miserable and alone, just like his mother did. 

He was broken out of his musings by running into a large group of balloons. Red, because of course they were red. 

He cursed out the small child in front of him, which honestly was a bit of an asshole thing to do, but at this point, he didn’t care. 

The pharmacy was just as he remembered as a child, large, daunting, and physically boring in every way. 

He wasn’t sure why he ordered in a prescription for an inhaler, because a part of him knew he really didn’t need it. He only had one back in his house because sometimes it helps when he’s having a panic attack, but now he felt like his asthma was truly coming back. Which was weird, cause he never actually had it in the first place. 

But something about this town made his breath start to shorten, made him feel like all those illnesses his mom forced onto him were actually manifesting. But that was ridiculous. It was all in his head. 

The pharmacist was still as creepy as Eddie remembered, and he really did not want to know what the hell he was doing before he saw Eddie. 

That girl, Greta he thinks, still worked there, managing to look the exact same as she did 27 years ago. Which really wasn’t a shock. They all knew that she would never go far, people like her never did. But still, it was a blast from the past to see her with the same stupid hairdo, still chewing her gum like she did as a kid. 

“Can I help you?” Mr. Keene, he thinks it’s Mr. Keene anyways, asks. 

“Oh, yeah,” He says. “Eddie Kaspbrak? An inhaler?” 

He couldn’t help but feel like he was 12 years old again, a cast on his arms as he stammered through picking up his pills from Greta. 

“Ah yes,” The old man said, reaching over and handing over the bag. “I remember you, how’s your mother?” 

“She died a few years ago,” Eddie replied emotionlessly. He had been invited to the funeral, but somehow he managed not to give in and go. She lived alone, died alone, and was buried alone. He couldn’t really bring himself to feel bad about it. He barely remembered her until a few days ago. 

“What’s that on your face?” The pharmacist asked, and before Eddie could even react the man was reaching out with his grubby fingers, grabbing at a mole on his skin, his tongue sticking out in concentration. 

“It’s a mole,” He said, paralyzed. He should move, pull away, but his feet felt cemented to the ground. “It’s not going to pop.” 

“It might not be cancer,” The man said with a hum. 

“Cancer?” Eddie asked, his heart skipping despite himself. 

“Or it might be,” The man said with a shrug. “Who knows.” 

Eddie kind of wanted to punch the man. 

As he walked away, a door in the corner caught his eye. A faint memory smashed into his mind, his mothers' voice calling out to him, himself wandering down while almost paralyzed with fear, the fucking leper.

He finds himself walking over there. 

The steps are the same, dark, dreary, reminding him of every fucking horror movie he could never sit through. He guessed he was the stupid horror movie protagonist this time, wandering down the stairs into the dark despite knowing that something bad was going to happen. 

“Why is the fucking sheet still there?” He asked to no one when he reached the bottom. 

The place was cleaned up, looking less like a horror movie set and more just a dusty and unkept basement of the town’s pharmacy. 

It didn’t explain why he could hear his heartbeat in his ears like tribal drums, pounding to a rhythm Eddie only heard in his nightmares. It didn’t explain why dread started to pool inside his stomach and he felt the world tipping around him. 

He knew he had to tear down the curtain, see what was behind it. Would his mom still be there, begging him to free her? Would the leper be there? The clown? Any other horrible figment of his imagination? 

He can’t believe he was doing this. He should be turning tail and running as far away as he could get, should be booking it out of the store and out of town. 

But instead, he walked closer. 

his hands were shaking as he lifted them towards the curtains, shakily grabbing onto them. He fought against the urge to close his eyes, knowing that if he did he would most likely die. 

So he kept his eyes wide open and he tore down the curtain. 

There was no one there. 

His mother wasn’t strapped to a chair, there was no diseased man attached to a chain, no creepy clown out to get him. 

Just his overreactive imagination acting like a bitch. 

He needed to go, he was pretty sure the inhaler was his artifact, but he should probably wander for a while longer and try to make sure. 

He turned to go-

And ran face-first into the Leper standing behind him. 

Its skin was a muted pink color, streaked with bubbling blisters and discolored patches. Its teeth were out of place, it’s nose literally gone, and spit dripped out of its capped lips. 

Eddie’s hands instinctually raised up, holding the monster at arm's length as it slobbered and groaned, pushing him up against the wall. 

Eddie was screaming, his heart pounding as he stared into the physical manifestation of everything he had feared as both a child and an adult.

He was terrified of getting sick, of getting some sort of illness and ending up looking like that. Even now, a grown adult, he was terrified of dying from something as ridiculous as cancer or an STD. Even though he knows the chances aren’t even that high. 

“You’re sick,” A voice hissed, and Eddie nearly threw up. It sounded like his mother, but different. It was changed, deeper, a mix of hers and the clowns. “You let him get you sick.” 

“Fuck you,” He said, his fingers digging into the Lepers soft skin. It felt sticky and soft under his skin, but he squeezed anyway, an unreasonable amount of anger bubbling under his skin. 

“You're ill!” The voice cried out louder. “Diseased! Sick! Disgusting! You let him make you sick Eddie-Bear! You let him infect you!” 

Eddie didn’t bother replying, letting the anger flow through his skin as he pressed hard, backing the leper up against the wall. 

The voices chanted over and over again, echoing around him getting louder and louder, but he only let it fuel him. 

He wasn’t dirty. He wasn’t disgusting. He wasn’t anything but himself. 

His name was Eddie Tozier-Kaspbrak, and he was going to kill this fucking clown no matter what it said. 

He could feel it squirming in his hands, its disgusting tongue lashing out, touching his arms and hands and it was the most disgusting thing he had ever felt but he could also feel it chocking. 

He screamed, putting every last ounce of the burning anger, fear, and everything else bubbling up inside him into his hands. And for a second he truly believed that maybe he could kill this fucking thing.

Then it puked all over him. 

Pure black bile regurgitated all over him, getting into his mouth, all over his skin, and he let go on pure disgust, stumbling back and feeling like screaming. It tasted like pure shit, and he could feel it in his throat, the taste overtaking all his senses. 

“Disgusting,” The voice in his ear hissed. “I can’t wait to play with you Eddie.” 

The leper was gone, and he found himself rushing upstairs, the fear from before returning so he tugged on the door, unable to get it open. The sludge felt like tar on his face, clogging up every pore and he wanted out. He wanted to go back to the motel, wash this gunk off of him, and maybe lie down and sleep for the next twenty-seven years. 

Most of all though, he wanted his friends, he wanted Richie. 

He wanted someone to tell him that he was okay, that this was just some big nightmare and they would be over and done with this all by the time the night was out. 

He just wanted to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Henry:)


	7. Oh what a sin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drank so much loving Ben juice while writing this guys.

Richie couldn’t stay there. 

He felt like a wimp, like a massive coward, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t sit here and amuse some old ritual that might not even work, couldn’t put both his and Eddie’s life on the line. 

What would he do if Eddie died? 

Fuck he had never even thought of that possibility until he entered the town. He always figured they would grow old together, become two grouchy old men who rolled each other around in a wheelchair, bitching and complaining about their backs. But now, apparently, it was likely that one or both of them would die in a dirty sewer by a psychotic clown. 

So he had to go. He would rather die out there, than give the clown what he wanted. 

Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it made him a horrible person. But he saw nothing wrong with trying to protect the man he loved by removing them both from the equation. 

He marched past Ben and Beverly, who looked trapped in a very intimate moment. He muttered something about leaving, and Ben charged after him, panic in his eyes. Richie didn’t want to hear about it. 

He stormed into his room, grabbing his suitcase and throwing it on the bed as he started packing. 

“Richie!” Ben cried, walking into the room. “What’s going on? What happened?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” He snapped, his teeth grinding together. He couldn’t bring himself to look over at Ben, couldn’t bring himself to look at the disappointment shining in his friends’ eyes. “I’m leaving.” 

“Rich,” Ben sighed. “You can’t be serious.” 

“I am deadly serious!” Richie cried, turning around and throwing his hands out. His fingers were shaking. “I don’t care anymore Ben; I can’t do this.” 

“Why not?” Ben countered. “What are you so afraid of?” 

“Dying for one.” He replied shortly. “Watching the people I love die, all of you fuckers dying. I don’t want to see that shit.” 

“If you leave,” Ben said lowly. “You’re dooming us all.” 

Richie’s blood went cold. 

“What do you mean?” He snapped. 

“We need everyone here, and Stan, Stan couldn’t make it, and if we lose anyone else we will die,” Ben said. 

“Then leave too,” Richie said with a shrug. “I don’t care. Why is it my job to sacrifice myself to save you?” 

“Is that what you want?” Ben stressed. “You leave, we die. No one else is going. Bill, Bev, Mike, Eddie? They’ll go into that sewer, and they won’t make it out without your help.” 

Richie closed his eyes, his hands coming up to press at his eyes and he hated this so much. 

He needed to leave, couldn’t sit in this town for one more minute, but was it worth it? Was it worth it to doom his friends into dying like Stan? He just got them back. 

Would Eddie even leave with him? Last he saw his husband was all for staying, for killing the clown despite his fears. And Richie couldn’t leave without him. But of course Eddie would want to go. There was no way that after this shit he would want to stay. Eddie was smarter than that. 

“Just,” Ben continued, his voice sounding strangled. “Stay. Please. Don’t go Richie, we need you here.” 

“Fine,” He whispered through clenched teeth, his hands falling limply to his side. “Fine.” 

“Okay,” Ben said softly, a hand running through his hair. “Okay, thank you. I’ll give you some space. Just, come down and talk to us if you feel like fleeing again. We can work this out together.” 

Richie didn’t reply. Ben hovered awkwardly for a few seconds before he left, softly closing the door behind him. Right as he did that, Richie was back in movement, grabbing the rest of his clothes and tossing them into his bag. 

He walked into Eddie’s room, not bothering to knock as he opened the door and walked in. His husband was nowhere to be seen. 

“Fuck,” Richie cursed, his eyes flying closed as his hands buried in his hair. 

Behind his eyelids, he could see Eddie’s pale dead face staring at him, Pennywise the fucking clown standing over him, claws soaked in blood. 

His eyes flew open and he let out another muffled curse, turning around on the spot. Of course Eddie wasn’t here yet, he was probably still out wandering around the town about to get the living daylights scared out of him. Or worst. 

_”It’s your fault,” _The voice whispered in the back of his mind and Richie couldn’t do this anymore. 

Richie slipped back into his room, hating the fact that his hands were shaking as he grabbed his suitcase. He walked to the window, opening it and feeling grateful for the fire escape behind the building. He barreled out of the motel, almost falling off the fire escape in his haste. 

He wasn’t leaving yet, he needed to wait for Eddie. But if he stayed there any longer in that motel he would break. He just needed to get out, to escape and drive around until he calmed down. Maybe he could find Eddie, try to save him from whatever the hell was going on in this town.

So he walked down the steps and climbed into his car, pulling it into drive and peeling out of the parking lot. 

He just needed to clear his head. 

_______________________________________

Eddie wanted to get clean. 

He needed to get clean. 

He ignored Ben and Bev’s concerned questions, instead focused on simply getting to his room to clean off. 

He couldn’t focus on anything other than it. He felt so goddamn _dirty_ and he just wanted it to stop. He could feel the vomit covering his skin in a thick layer, the grainy mess rubbing against his skin.

He had puked when he left the store, gagging as he tried to get out all the shit out of his mouth. He wasn’t able to get the taste away. 

He walked into his bathroom, grabbing a cloth and rubbing at his face and neck, until his skin was red and irritated, but clean. 

He still didn’t feel clean. 

He could feel the residue caking onto his skin, as if it was staining his very essence, infecting him down to his bones. 

He grabbed a toothbrush, aggressively brushing at his teeth and he blinked back tears. He wasn’t going to cry over something as stupid as this. It didn’t matter that he felt dirty, and disgusting, and wrong. 

None of that mattered, because his friends needed him to be strong, to be brave. Even if he wasn’t. 

He spit out the toothpaste, putting down his toothbrush and standing up, a hand reaching out to snap shut the bathroom mirror. 

He didn’t notice Henry Bowers standing behind him. 

He did notice the knife entering his cheek though. That was kinda hard to miss.

The pain was immediate and blinding, sending him stumbling back away from the man. Henry was jumping up and down, looking do goddamn overjoyed that he stabbed him. But Henry had always hated him, so of course he would kill him first. 

“Why?” He yelled, because he wasn’t really sure what else to say. The knife scraped the inside of his mouth and teeth, the scratching feeling making him nauseous. The taste of blood was sharp of his tongue, the metallic taste overriding all his scenes. 

“It told me to,” Henry giggled, walking forwards. “He told me it’s your time you fucking fairy!” He was laughing, hysterical and Eddie knew that those years in the asylum only made him worse. So much worse. 

Eddie laughed along with him, unsure about what was funny but not knowing what to do otherwise. What was the protocol for getting stabbed in the face? 

He needed to get away, get any form of distance between him and the absolute physco of a man. 

Of course, that distance came in the form of the bathtub hitting the back of his knees. He stepped over it, hands fumbling for the curtain as he slid it to hide Henry from view.

He needed to think. 

The knife in his cheek hurt like hell, and every movement was agony, but he couldn’t just sit and do nothing. 

Bowers was demanding his knife back, screaming and obviously angry and Eddie nearly fainted at the sudden change in the man’s mood. He was dead meat, there was no doubt about it. This was how his life was to end. 

That’s when the anger came back. 

Anger was his old friend in Derry, the anger at his mom and her manipulations, anger at the fucking clown, anger that he wasn’t able to come to terms with his sexuality. Everything about this town made him angry, and he decided that he wasn’t going to let this fucking town have the best of him. Eddie wasn’t going down without a fight. He was tired of running away, tired of being afraid. He was done being afraid, of living in fear. He was taking his life into his own hands.

Somehow, that translated into pulling the knife out of his cheek. Thank god for shock. 

Stabbing it into Henry’s chest was also not planned, but the man was too close and he wanted his fucking knife so he was going to get it. 

The curtain ripped off the pole, Henry staring quizzically down at his chest as if it was some kind of puzzling equation he couldn’t figure out. 

Eddie took the time to shuffle past him, trying his best to get to the door. He felt on edge, as if one move from the former bully would send him panicking. 

The door didn’t open at first, and he figured it was because his hand was still wet from the blood covering it. He was so fucking lucky for shock, because eh could already feel his cheek growing numb, dulling down to a painful ache as he managed to open to door, knocking over the towel rack in the process. He hoped the motel owners wouldn’t charge him for that. 

He shuffled into the hallway, his hands and body braced against the wall because he could already fell his limbs failing, moving sluggishly as he slid down the wall, blood smearing across the ugly wallpaper. Good, he hated the color. 

He heard Bev scream, and he turned to look at her almost through a haze. She looked so grossed out and worried and Eddie found it sweet how fast her and Ben rushed to his side. 

“Bowers in my bathroom,” He tried to say, but it came out slightly distorted due to the amount of blood that was filling and running out of his mouth. Ben immediately dashed into the room, which Eddie secretly thought was the bravest thing he had ever seen. How had he never noticed how brave Ben was? 

“Is it that bad?” Eddie said weakly as Beverly’s hands hovered around his face, unsure where she should touch. She settled for reaching forwards. Carefully pinching the fold of skin together. It hurt like hell. 

“He’s gone,” Ben breathed out, falling to the ground beside them, his hands reaching out to grab onto Eddie’s shoulders. “He was outside, pulled out the knife and ran to his car. I don’t know where he’s going next.” 

“He’s still alive?” Eddie said, and Beverly’s hand moved from his cheek in shock at the movement, sending a new cascade of blood through his mouth. It tasted horrible, but he powered through, trying to ignore the feeling. “How? I stabbed him in the fucking chest.” 

“You stabbed him?” Ben asked, as if it wasn’t obvious. 

“He wanted his knife back,” Eddie said, laughing a bit hysterically. 

“Stop talking,” Beverly scolded. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Bedroom,” He muttered, and Ben took off, entering the room and returning seconds later with it in hand. 

“I have no idea what to do,” He said, unclipping it and digging into the abundance of supplies Eddie kept stocked up. “Eddie?” 

Eddie reached forwards, one hand digging through the kit as the other cupped his cheek. He grabbed a bunch of sanitary wipes and some bandages, figuring he probably needed to get stitches, but he really didn’t have time for that. 

“Who is he going after next?” Beverly asked, as if Henry told him anything important. 

“I don’t know,” He said. “Who isn’t here?” 

“Just Mike, he’s at the library, and Bill but I don’t know where he went,” Bev said, frowning up at Ben. 

“Richie?” Eddie asked, a spark of hope racing through him. Where was his husband? He had to have heard them screaming if he was here. 

Ben frowned, as if thinking the same thing before standing up, pounding on the door. 

“Richie!” Ben screamed. “Open up!” 

There was no answer. 

Eddie felt his breath catch in his throat, and he was pushing away from Bev before he even realized it, words stuck in his mouth just like the blood was filling it. 

“Eddie!” Bev cried, but it was lost int eh background noise. 

Why wouldn’t Richie open up? Surely if he heard them screaming he would have entered. What if he wasn’t the first one Bowers got to? 

The fear caused his finger to shake more than the pain did, and he clumsily grabbed the extra key Richie gave him, unlocking the door and pushing inside. Thankfully, Richie wasn’t lying there covered in blood, in fact, Richie wasn’t there at all. Neither were his bags. 

The window was left open. 

“He left,” Ben said, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. 

“No,” Eddie shook his head. “He hasn’t left, he wouldn’t have.” 

Richie wouldn’t leave without him, that much he was sure of. 

“Eddie,” Ben sighed, hands reaching out to grab at him as Eddie’s legs refused to stop shaking. “He was going to anyway, I thought I stopped him but-“ 

Eddie pushed away, barely managing to stay on his feet as he grabbed the phone. 

“Call him,” He said, thrusting the phone at Ben who followed him over. “Call him.” 

He collapsed onto the bed the two of them had shared earlier, and Bev carried over the kit, sticking it closer to him. 

Carefully, she helped his wipe away the blood, holding his hand as he cried out at the pain. The wipe stung like hell, and it didn’t stop hurting even when they slapped the bandage onto it and the bleeding had finally stopped. 

Eddie sat back, taking deep breaths as he reached forwards, grabbing the bottle of painkillers he kept on hand. 

He shoved three onto his tongue, dry swallowing them with ease. The pain should dull soon enough. 

He wanted to go to the hospital, needed to go and make sure everything was alright. Visions of infections and large scars danced around his mind, septic and other diseases flashed through his mind but he forced himself past it. Richie was possibly in trouble, along with his other friends. He needed to be strong, to get over himself. 

He passed out seconds later. 

_________________________________________

Richie was reminiscing Stan when he got the phone call. 

His parents were Jewish, but he never felt any attachment to the religion, not like Stan did. But the day Stan stuck it to his father was maybe one of the best days of his entire life. Watching his friend stand up for himself, swear his father out at his own bar mitzvah, it was glorious. 

But it also reminded him how much he missed his former best friend. 

Before he could think about it too much, the phone rang. 

Weirdly enough, it seemed to be his own motel phone number. His heart stuttered a bit, relieved at the thought of Eddie finally calling him. Maybe they could finally blow this town now.

“’Ello!” He said cheerfully, putting on his best British voice. The one Eddie said he despised, but he knew that Eddie secretly loved. 

“Richie?” It was Ben’s voice, not Eddie’s like he was hoping. He winced, guessing the jig was up. 

“I can explain haystack,” He said, standing up and walking towards the door. 

“No time,” Ben cut him off. “Henry Bowers is on the loose. You need to get to the library.” 

“What?” He asked, stopping for a second and looking around as if Bowers was going to jump out at him. “Why the library?” 

“Because that’s where Mike is,” Ben said. “Strength in numbers you know? We’ll meet you guys there, and then we’ll go find Bill.” 

“Is everything okay?” He asked, listening closely for a tidbit of Eddie’s voice in the background. He can hear a muffled conversation, slight hisses of pain and the reassuring tone of a woman’s voice. “Is Eddie okay?” 

“Um,” Ben says, and it makes Richie’s heart beat faster, images of Eddie’s chest ripped open flashing across his eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” 

There was suddenly a loud thunk, and he could hear someone speaking rapidly. Ben cursed under his breath. 

“Get to the library now, as fast as you can. Don’t die.” Ben said urgently, and right when he thought Ben was going to hang up, the other man paused. “He’s going to be okay Richie, I promise.” 

With that, the phone clicked off and Richie was left standing there in the middle of the street. 

He had never driven faster to a library in his entire life. 

____________________________

Richie knew something was wrong the second he walked into the library. 

The lights were off, and there was a tense silence throughout the halls. 

Then he heard it, a loud thunk, gleeful laughter, and he broke into a run. 

He wasn’t fond of the scene he walked in on. A man who was obviously Henry Bowers kneeling over a downed Mike, that goddamn switchblade in his hand as he pressed it closer and closer to Mike’s throat. 

He acted on pure instinct, feeding off of the fear and anger that had been swirling inside his stomach ever since he got here. He had already lost Stan; he wasn’t losing Mikey too.

He grabbed the ceremonial looking ax that had probably been in the smashed glass case, and he surged forwards, swinging with all his might and striking that bastard right over the heat with a satisfying thunk. 

He realized ten seconds later that he just _fucking killed Henry Bowers._

“I’d say that was long overdue,” He said, staring down at Mike, who looked surprised to be alive. “Get it? Cause we’re in a-“ He cut himself off, lunging to the side to puke his guts out. 

Henry Bower was lying on the floor with an ax in the back of his head, blood gathering below him and Richie thought he was going to puke again. 

That’s when the rest of the idiots decided to stumble in, a few minutes too late. 

“Oh my god,” Ben said, eyes flicking between Richie, Mike, and Bowers. “Are you okay?” 

“I just killed a man!” Richie said shrilly, blinking rapidly. “Of course not.” 

“I was talking to Mike,” Ben said awkwardly, shuffling from foot to foot. 

Whatta good friend. 

Bev and Ben walked forwards to help Mike up, who immediately asked about Bill. Richie wasn’t paying attention to the answer though, too busy looking at Eddie, who had a bandage on his cheek. 

He walked over, his hand reaching up to brush over the white fabric. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” He asked, his voice only shaking a tiny bit. 

“Bowers stabbed me in the face,” Eddie said casually. 

Richie was sudden a lot happier about the fact that he axed Henry in the back of his head. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, hands reaching out before remembering himself, pulling back quickly. He saw a flash of pain dance in Eddie’s eyes and he wasn’t sure if it was pain from the wound or pain from Richie pulling away from him. He didn’t want to know. 

“Nope,” Eddie replied. “It’s probably going to get infected and I’ll need to stay a month in the hospital but I can’t focus on that right now because a killer clown is attempting to murder all of us.” 

Richie wasn’t sure how to reply, he was still trying to figure it out when Mike suddenly spoke up. 

“He’s going after It alone.” He said, panic filling his eyes. 

“Fuck,” Richie said, his eyes flickering around the room. Bill may be their leader, but he was a fucking idiot sometimes. 

________________________________

Obviously, the moved out of there fast. 

It was getting dark, and they knew they were running out of time. Bill was on foot, and really that was their only advantage. They had two cars waiting outside. 

“Eddie and I will take my car,” Richie said, grabbing Eddie’s arm and pulling him away. “Whoever gets their first wins.” 

“Beep Beep,” Mike said absently, gnawing on his lip with a nervous expression. “Are we ready for this?” 

“Nope,” Bev said. “But for Bill, we have to be.” 

Richie slammed the car down behind him, Eddie following seconds later. Ben drove off first, and Richie waited as they drove out of sight. 

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked. “We need to go you idiot-“ 

Richie cut him off by surging forwards, grabbing his shirt and crashing their lisp together. Eddie hesitated for only a moment before melting into the kiss, his shaking hands reaching up to Cup Richie’s cheek. Richie’s hands covered them, and he felt like crying. 

“Richie,” Eddie sighed as they pulled apart, resting their foreheads together. “Richie.” 

“I know,” He whispered, his voice shaking. “I’m so fucking scared.” 

“So am I,” Eddie whispered. “But we have each other, I’m here Rich, I’m here.” 

Richie laughed, shaking his head as a tear slipped down his cheek. 

“I can’t lose you,” He said, his voice strangled. “Eddie please I can’t lose you.” 

“I know,” Eddie replied. “I can’t either. I don’t want to imagine life without you.” 

“Then don’t,” Richie said firmly. “Promise me Eds, promise me we’ll make it out of here.” 

“I promise,” Eddie said without hesitation. “I love you.” 

“I love you so fucking much,” Richie replied. 

Their lips crashed together again before they pulled back, both swallowing their fears and pretending that everything would be alright, that they would get out of this together. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Richie promised, his eyes lingering on the white taped to Eddie’s cheek. “I won’t let you get hurt.” 

“I trust you,” Eddie said, reaching across to link their fingers together. “We’ll get out of this together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I regret? Not having Stan be alive. I miss him guys


	8. A rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the part in the story where I fully forget everything that happened and make up dialogue and shit because I have short term memory loss and can't remember portions of the movie! So here's to remembering that this is my canon and I will do what I want with it lmao.
> 
> Also, I love how I was complaining about how I wished I could bring Stan back and you guys all just called me a coward and told me I could, which honestly Iconic of you guys.

They spend the entirety of the ride with their hands clasped tightly together, and normally Eddie would be happy. He loved holding Richie’s hand, feeling his own slightly smaller hand wrapped in the firm heat of the comedians, but this didn’t feel like casual hand-holding. It felt like a death sentence. 

It felt like the reason Adrian Mellon had died. It felt like the reason the two of them were pretending to be only friends. It felt like the last time they would even get to hold each other close. 

He never wanted it to end. But the other car had stopped, and they stopped with it, Richie pulling him in for one last chaste kiss before the others got out of the car. 

“Is it too late to turn back and get the hell out of here?” Richie whispered, the pad of his thumb swiping across the edge of the bandage across his cheek. The cut still hurt like hell, and every now and then he’d swipe his tongue against it and feel the bitter metallic taste of blood still clinging to it. But he had no time to worry about this quite yet. 

“I think Ben would pick us up kicking and screaming to drag us back,” He replied weakly, melting into the touch, his own hand reaching up to cup around Richie’s fingers, tugging them away from his face and entwining their fingers. 

“I’d love to be held by those arms,” Richie let out an exaggerated sigh. “Those things are what wet dreams are made out of.” 

“I swear by the end of this you’ll file for a divorce with me so you can run off with Ben,” Eddie smirked, letting himself calm as much as he could with the circumstance. 

“I think Bev might have a problem with that,” Richie said, flicking his head to the side. Eddie followed his gaze to where Ben and Bev stood to the side of the car, their hands entwined and Ben talked to her, probably saying something sweet and encouraging like usual. “God I wish that was me.” Richie continued. 

“Beep Beep,” Eddie giggled. “Let’s go save Mike, he looks so awkward.” 

Sure enough, Mike was standing to the side, looking as if he really did not want to be there. 

“He’s just missing Bill,” Richie muttered. “Fuck! Bill!” 

Just like that, they were reminded that this wasn’t the time for fooling around. That their friend might be facing a very painful death by the hands of a killer clown. 

“Let’s get going then,” He said, reluctantly tearing his hand from Richie’s and opening his door. His husband followed soon after, and the five friends met in the middle, exchanging no words before they marched towards the house a few feet away. 

They caught Bill seconds before he entered the house. 

Eddie wouldn’t deny being terrified. Just being by this house, with its crumbling walls and peeling paint. He remembered being a kid, seeing that goddamn clown waiting by the front with his stupid balloons. He remembered willingly climbing down into the basement and fighting that shitty thing in the sewers. He had hoped to never see this place again. 

But here he was, willingly heading right back in there once again. 

They crept along the hallway, moving as a group as they tried to remember just how to get to Its lair. 

“I really love what he’s done with the place,” Riche muttered, and Eddie resisted the urge to smack him. 

“Beep Beep Richie,” Beverly said breathlessly, and Eddie resisted the urge to smile. It was good having his friends back, except for the showing factor that he may have to literally watch all his friends die in like five seconds. 

Fuck, he was terrified.

He tried to deny it before, but he couldn’t ignore the rolling fear coursing through his body. His limbs were shaking, his heart beating a thousand miles per hour as he walked through the house. 

Bill was the first one to notice the door leading to the basement. He dashed towards it, Richie following him, so of course Eddie followed along. 

The door slammed shut behind them. 

“Oh fuck,” Bill said, slamming his fist against the door, calling out to the others. 

He could hear them all screaming, yelling and he felt panic grip his heart. If any of them were to die this soon? He would never forgive himself for getting separated from them. They couldn’t die yet; Eddie couldn’t handle it. 

He heard the shattering of glass, and then the fridge started to shake. 

Just like that, all thoughts of their friends left his mind as he now debated his own mortality. The three men clumped together, backing into the corner of the room, far away from whatever the hell was inside that thing. Eddie glanced over at his husband, whose eyes were glued to the fridge. Eddie had never seen Richie look so scared. He was always the one to put a happy smile over his lips. 

The door to the fridge opened. 

And a head rolled out. 

“Holy shit,” Richie breathed. “It’s Stan.” 

Sure enough, Stan’s head was staring back at them, looking just like he did when they were kids. Except a lot more dead looking. 

“Richie,” The head croaked. “Richie, what’s happened to me?”

Eddie couldn’t even hear what else Stan was saying over the rushing in his head, because Stan was dead, and it seemed they were about to follow. 

The thing grew legs, because of course it did, and Richie stepped in front of him, shining a flashlight to try and scare the thing away. But that thing was the pinnacle of fear, It was the literal representation of everything they were scared of. It wasn’t going to be afraid of anything. The next thing Eddie knew it was jumping at them, and they scattered, all screaming and panicking as the thing attacked them. 

Eddie’s back was against the wall, limbs locking up as he watched it attack Bill and Richie. He should help, he should fight back against it, but it was as if he was frozen to the place, unable to move. 

All the bravery from earlier had fled, because it wasn’t just him anymore. In the pharmacy, he found the strength and anger to push back, to fight, because it was just him and It. If he died, then he died. But now? Now it was Stan’s mutant head on the ground, attacking his husband and his best friend and it was extremely likely that they were all going to die. They were all going to die and Eddie couldn’t move away from this stupid wall. 

Bill threw it out of the room. 

He still wasn’t able to relax. He felt his breath getting caught in his throat and if he was able to do anything other than panic he probably would have raised his inhaler to his lips, just to feel the rush of cool air fill his lungs so he could properly breathe again. 

“Eddie?” Richie’s voice broke through the panic. “You okay man?” 

No, he was not. He felt like he was thirteen years old again, laying on the ground with that stupid clown hovering over him, just waiting to kill him. He felt weak, frail, sickly, just like his mother made him out to be. He was a coward. 

The thing was over top of him. 

Somehow, not even then could he bring himself to move. 

It just happened so fast, looking up to see that thing grinning over him, watching it jump towards him, Richie batting it away, Richie on the floor with that thing over his head and holy shit. 

“Eddie!” Bill was screaming as he pulled on the thing, but it was getting closer to Richie’s face either way. “The knife! Pass me the knife!” 

He couldn’t do it. 

His husband was on the ground, seconds away from being eaten by a demon spider and he couldn’t even move his limbs enough to grab the knife that could kill the thing. 

He tried, fuck he tried so hard but he felt like a kid again, paralyzed by fear, eyes stuck on the stupid demonic thing of the day. 

Ben was there suddenly, grabbing the knife and stabbing it into the spider’s head, over and over and over again. 

Eddie still couldn’t move, not when Richie was fumbling on the ground, clearly disorientated and terrified, not when Bill came at him, screaming and ranting and Bill had never yelled at him. Bill never raised his voice at him as a child or adult, and Eddie felt like he was about to curl into a ball and die. 

“Do you w-want Richie to die?” Bill hissed. “Is t-that it?” 

“No!” Eddie said, and he felt like a little kid watching his childhood hero look at him with disgust and contempt. “I’m sorry Bill, please don’t be mad.” 

His breath was coming out shorter again, and the world was sort of blurring in front of him, and he knew exactly what was happening and he hated it. 

Bill immediately softened, like he could sense the absolute mess inside his head. 

“It’s o-okay, we all are,” Bill said, reaching forwards and for a hot second Eddie thought Bill was going to smack him. He only placed his hand on his shoulder. “T-that’s what It w-wants right? F-for us to be s-scared?” 

Bev approached him seconds after Bill left, going to check up on Richie. 

“Here,” She said softly. “Take this, it kills monsters.” 

“Does it?” He asked, clasping the fence post in his hand. 

“If you believe it does,” She replied with a smile. Eddie personally thought that was the biggest non-answer ever. 

They moved on. 

The rest of the group walked forwards, and Richie held back a second, quickly grabbing Eddie’s hand and squeezing it slightly, sending him a shaky smile. 

“You back with us now?” He said gently, his thumb rubbing grounding circled onto his hand. 

Weirdly enough, things like what happened in that room occurred enough for Richie to be fully aware of what happened. Sometimes, when he gets a really bad nightmare of things he couldn’t even remember, it would be like he was thirteen years old again, unable to move or process things properly for long periods of time. He hated it, thought it was immature, stupid, and unnecessary, but Richie never teased him for it. Knew how to coax him out of it until he was able to function again. 

Theoretically, Eddie knew that was what happened, that he had a panic attack and managed to somehow regress into a scared helpless kid again. But on the same hand he almost got his husband killed, and how was he supposed to live with that? 

He pulled his hand away from Richie, avoiding his husband’s eyes as he followed the group. 

_____________________________________________

Richie always knew he hated this house, but honestly just being there again solidified that fact. 

It had been like, ten minutes and he has already been attacked and almost killed by a beheaded spider version of his best friend, watching his husband have a mental breakdown without being able to watch, watching his husband give him the cold shoulder most likely out of guilt or whatever, and now they had to crawl into the fucking sewers. 

And his glasses were broken again, which meant that his optometrist was going to be pissed at him. That is if they make it out of this stupid place alive, which was looking less and less of an option every passing second. 

He had to stop his hands from shaking as he helped Bev jump the little ledge, his entire body afire with panic. He couldn’t get Stan’s face out of his head, his panicked look, the decaying skin, his flat curls. That was his best friend's head, his best friend who humored all his bad jokes, who attempted to teach him the different types of birds, who always supported him no matter how much of a dumbass he was being. That was his best friend, who was dead before Richie got the time to reconnect. 

He shook his head, trying to focus on the task at hand. He couldn’t let it get to him, couldn’t let It win.

Richie forgot how much he hated the sewers, really he despised the place. The fucking low light playing tricks on his eyes, the overwhelming smell of shit, the fact that he was literally walking through shit. 

He could hear a younger version of Eddie explaining what greywater was, his voice high and impatient. Richie wished they could go back to those days, the days of eating ice cream and playing in the barrens, the thought of a killer clown not even entering their minds yet. 

But he wasn’t a little kid anymore, none of them were. They were just a bunch of terrified adults, trying their best not to die and to save a town that never gave anything to them. 

They should have brought a machine gun. All they had was a stupid fence post Beverly picked up and their fists. Why hadn’t any of them thought to like, bring some grenades or something? Wouldn’t that have been smart? If the living things abide by the rules they reside in or whatever applies, then shouldn’t they just bring a shit ton of firepower and hope for the best? 

They were wading through the water when the next scare came. He didn’t even realize that Beverly had stopped, he was so focused on not falling flat onto his face as he climbed up the makeshift island thingy. But one second she was there, the next second she was gone. 

Richie didn’t hesitate to throw himself into the water, diving down into the murkiness after Bev. 

It looked like It had her, or at least It in the form of a really creepy grandma. The others surrounded him as well, all diving towards her with urgency. It was hard to see, the water murky and dark and Richie was honestly amazing that his glasses hadn’t fallen off somehow. 

Ben was the first to get to her, his ridiculously athletic body easily parting through the water to grab a hold of her and pull, Mike following and smacking the grandma lady to force her to let go. Richie and Bill got there last, Bill moving to help Mike get the ladies grip off her, and Richie moved to grab onto Bev’s waist, pulling her the other way. It didn’t take that long before It gave up, smiling up at them as it disappeared into the water. 

They all swam towards the surface, Riches’ lungs burning from the lack of water as finally breached the surface, gasping for air. Eddie was still of the island, looking scared as fuck and Richie immediately started to swim over there, climbing up and sitting next to his husband. 

“I thought you left,” Eddie whispered, his voice cracking slightly. He held the fence post tightly in his hands. 

“I’m here,” Richie said quiet enough that the other losers wouldn’t overhear. “Remember? I promised not to leave, and I’m not going to.” 

“Okay,” Eddie said, but his shoulders still shook. Richie resisted the urge to hug him. “Okay.” 

“We should keep moving,” Mike said, pointing to the horrifying looking cover. 

“We’re going through that?” Richie asked, blinking hard. “I’ll pass.” 

“T-too late to back out now,” Bill muttered. 

Mike darted forwards and wrenched the cover open. 

Richie would forever deny the squeal that came from his lips, expecting something to jump out and eat them all. 

Nothing happened. 

“That was anticlimactic,” Richie muttered. 

“Who’s going first?” Mike said, before jumping into the hole without an answer. Bill followed next, then Bev. Richie hated watching his friends disappear into the small dark hole, knowing if It chose this moment to strike they would all be stuck with no way out. 

“I can’t do this.” Eddie suddenly burst out, looking like he was going to faint. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.” 

“Hey!” Richie said, walking over and grabbing at him. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m can’t- you saw what happened there.,” Eddie whimpered. “I was gonna let you die, I just fucking froze up, if you let me go down there with you, I’m gonna get us all killed.” As if to punctuate that thought, Eddie took a hit from that stupid inhaler to his lips, as if he needed it. 

“Hey no!” Richie said, grabbing at the inhaler and pulling it away from Eddie, who stubbornly kept fighting against it. “You don’t need that shit.” 

Richie was there when Eddie gave up the inhaler for good, when he launched it into a river they passed on their way to New York, and Richie knew it was hard for him. Hard to give up the crutch he depended on his entire life. But they both knew that Eddie didn’t need that inhaler, that he could breathe perfectly fine without it. Well, almost perfectly fine, if you ignored the panic attacks that sometimes stole his breath away from him. 

They continued to grapple for a few seconds before Richie tore it out of his hands. 

“You don’t need this,” He stressed, shoving it into Eddie’s front pocket and then grabbing the man’s hands before he could reach for it. “Tell me something, who killed a psychotic clown when he was fourteen?” 

“I did,” Eddie mumbled. 

“Who pulled a knife from his own fucking face and stabbed Henry Bowers?” Richie continued. 

“I did,” Eddie said, a small smile quirking up his lips as he melted slightly into Richie’s hands. 

And just because he felt like being a little shit-

“Who married a woman ten times his own body mass?” He asked. 

“I didn’t marry a woman ten times my body mass,” Eddie snapped, but a smile snuck onto his lips. “But I did marry a huge dumbass.” 

“Ouch,” Richie laughed. “I’m wounded.” 

He leaned closer, his face a few inches away from Eddie’s. 

“You’re braver than you think.” He whispered. 

“Thanks Richie,” Eddie smiled, leaning forwards and kissing him softly, barely a press of his lips. Richie pushed back, because who knows where they would get another moment to just be with each other alone, if they even actually get another moment like that either way. 

Behind them, Ben cleared his throat. 

Fuck. 

They startled apart, and Richie turned quickly, remembered that oh yeah, Ben hadn’t gone into the hole quite yet. 

Ben was standing behind them, his face completely red as he avoided looking into either of their eyes. Richie felt his heart leap into his throat. 

“Should I like, go? Or-” Ben trailed off, running a hand through his hair. 

“Um, it isn’t what it looks like.” Richie fumbled, his cheeks tainting red too. 

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Eddie cut in, and Richie looked over to him in surprise. “Come on man, it’s Ben. And if he’s pissed at us he can’t do shit because we’re all going to die by killer clown anyway.” 

“I am so confused right now,” Ben said, his eyes darting to the hole like he wanted to jump down it just to escape this conversation. 

“You know what?” Richie sighed. “Fuck it. Eddie and I are married, desperately in love and I regularly pound him into the bed.” 

“Richie!” Eddie exclaimed, hitting him in the shoulder hard. 

“Oh,” Ben said. “Um, congrats? How long?” 

“Five years,” Richie said. 

“Eight years,” Eddie said at the same time. 

An awkward silence stretched out for a single second. 

“Excuse me?” Eddie said, turning to him. “We’ve been married for eight years!” 

“We’ve been engaged eight years ago, we got married five years ago!” Richie insisted. 

“That’s so wrong on every level!” Eddie sighed, and oh, yeah they have been married for eight years haven’t they? 

“So,” Richie turned back to Ben, who was watching them like he was watching a particularly interesting sports game. “We’ve been married for eight years.” 

“Why do I put up with you?” Eddie groaned. 

“Oh you love me.” Richie teased, leaning over and patting his cheek. 

“Ow you asshole!” Eddie flinched back. “That’s the bad cheek.” 

“Oh yeah,” Richie grinned. “Whoops.” 

“Are you assholes coming down anytime soon?” Beverly called up from the hole, and they were all shocked into moving. 

“Alright,” Richie clapped. “Let’s get going then.” 

“Oh, Ben?” Eddie asked. “Don’t mention this to anyone, we don’t know how they’ll respond and we want to be on the safe side.” 

“Of course,” Ben said immediately, nodding. “They’ll be fine with it though; I think Bev suspects something already. And we’ll all love you guys, no matter what.” 

“Awe, Ben you sap.” Richie cooed, trying to pretend like the words didn’t warm his heart. It was a weight off his shoulders to know at least one of their friends supported him. 

“I love you guys,” Ben said with a laugh. “You two being married doesn’t change that.” 

Richie watched as Eddie launched himself at Ben, hugging him tightly and burying his head into Ben’s shoulders. Richie couldn’t help the grin creeping over his lips. 

‘’Don’t steal my man dude,” He said fondly. “Now let’s go kick some clown ass.” 

“Alright,” Ben said with a smile as he patted Eddie’s shoulder. “Let’s go kill this fucking clown.” 

“Hey!” Richie cried as he started down the hole. “That’s my line!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmmm, I wonder how Ben knowing they're married is going to change the plot in future chapters??? Also, the next chapter is going to be a long one, so if it takes me a little longer to post that's why.


	9. Innocence Died Screaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little reminder that this story does not have a major character death tag :) Cause that's always what you want to hear before starting a chapter right?

They stood in the middle of some creepy spike-like area, and Eddie never wanted to be somewhere less. 

He would literally choose to be anywhere over this, even one of Richie’s business meetings where all the agents stared at him like massive creeps. He would rather endure 48 hours of that over standing here covered in greywater and wondering when the killer clown was going to wander out and slice him into little bits and pieces. 

“We t-throw our objects into the fire, and do a chant and it suh-should kill It?” Bill asked, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Pretty much yeah,” Mike said, leaning down and lighting up a match. The fire ignites. Eddie could think of at least ten fire safety protocols that they are violating. “Who goes first?” 

Bill stepped forwards. 

“Guh-Georgie’s boat,” He whispered, staring at it for a moment before tossing it in. 

Bev was next. 

“Something,” She flicked the paper over, staring at it softly. “Something I wish I kept.” 

She tossed it into the fire. Ben stepped forwards next. 

“A page from my notebook, signed by only one person.” He looks over to Bev, who stares at him with sad eyes. “I should have forgotten it, but I didn’t, because I kept it in my wallet for twenty-seven years.” 

Fuck, Richie and him needed to step it up on the romantic sappiness scale, because that was the sweetest thing Eddie had ever heard. He realized that it was his turn. 

“Um,” He said, blinking hard. “My inhaler.” He quickly pulled it to his lips, taking one last puff before chucking it in. 

“Come on man,” Richie said softly, and Eddie avoided his eyes. Richie cleared his throat, shaking his head as he pulled out a tiny little coin. “An arcade coin.” 

“Wait, you brought an actual token?” Eddie asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, that was literally what we were supposed to do asshole,” Richie grumbled. 

“Do you have any idea of how long that’s going to take to burn?” Eddie pointed out. 

“Yeah but so is your inhaler dude,” Richie pointed out.

“Guys,” Ben sighed. “Come on.” 

“And the toxic fumes, plastic and shit?” Richie continued

“Guys,” Mike said, deadly serious. Eddie shrunk a little under the gaze, they were trying to kill an ancient evil after all. He had no time to banter with Richie. Mike lifted a rock, the light catching the blood dried onto it. “From the rock fight,” Mike said, smiling softly. “When we all came together for the first time.” 

He threw it in. 

“That won’t burn either,” He whispered to Richie, who batted him away. 

“Hold each others hands,” Mike ordered, and they all hurried to comply. 

The air around them had changed, something tensing around them as they joined hands. Eddie squeezed Richie’s in an attempt at comforting him, and on the other side, Bill’s grip was secure and tight. 

“Say ‘Turn dark into light’.” Mike called out tot hem. 

Uncertainly, they all started chanting it, as the wind around them picked up, and three little lights dropped from the sky. 

“Deadlights!” Mike called out. “Close your eyes! Don’t look at it!” 

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut tightly, the light burning into his eyelids but he refused to look, memories of Bev suspended in the air dancing through his mind. 

“Turn dark into light!” They all chanted as Mike started spewing out words Eddie had no chance of understanding. Wind ripped around them, the noise inside the cave growing louder and louder and Eddie focused on just saying the phrase, over and over again like a mantra. If he said it enough times maybe they would kill It. They would kill It, they had to. 

Everything went quiet, and Mike slammed the lid down over top of the thing. Eddie’s eyes flew open and he stared at the urn, unable to believe it. Had they done it? Did they do it? 

The lid started pushing back. 

A red balloon starts to bubble out, despite Mike’s best efforts to keep in contained. 

Before they knew what was happening, Mike was falling back and they scrambled out of the spike-like structure, the balloon growing too big for them to stay in. 

“Mike!” Bill called. “I-Is this supposed to be happening?” 

Mike never got the chance to reply. The balloon popped. 

Eddie thought he’d never hear again. This was it; he could forever be left deaf. The ringing in his ears a constant chorus. Everyone was panicking around him, scrambling to get back up and figure out whatever the hell just happened. He felt a hand on his back, and turned to see Bill helping him up, lips moving but no sound coming out. 

Bill seemed to deem him okay though, because seconds later he was gone again, leaving Eddie standing there alone. 

The sound started to filter back in. 

“Eddie?” Someone called, and he turned towards the voice, stumbling a few steps before Richie got sight of him, hurrying over. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Eddie asked, probably a lot louder than he should have. 

Then the clown came. So he guessed the ritual didn’t work that well. 

“It was supposed to work!” Mike screamed, standing still, a devastated look on his face. 

“I guess the ritual was just,” The clown grinned, his eyes turning to dig into Eddie and he felt his blood run cold. “What was it Eddie? A gazebo?” 

He wanted to come up with some snarky reply, tried to channel the spirit of his husband’s trash mouth, but he found himself unable to speak, unable to move, cowering in Richie’s arms. 

“You didn’t tell them what really happened to the first people who attempted this, didn’t you Mikey?” The clown sneered, his head moving away to stare back at Mike. Eddie felt a slash of betrayal through his gut, did Mike keep something from them? 

“They didn’t believe,” Mike said, looking over to Bill as if begging him to understand. “It-It didn’t work because they didn’t believe! I needed you guys to believe!” 

“Jesus Christ Mike,” Richie yelled. “You fucking lied to us again.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mike said, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.” 

The clown started to move, giant pincher like feet lifting it out of the circle thingy, and they all scattered again. 

The claws were falling everywhere, slamming into the ground closer and closer to them. 

“Mike!” Bill screamed. “Mike move!” 

Mike seemed glued to the spot, staring at Pennywise almost like he didn’t believe he was real. 

Bill ran forwards, towards his friend and the killer clown, grabbing Mike’s arm and pulling away from the claw-like thing that would have surely kill him. 

Eddie and Richie bolted to the side, scrambling behind some sort of rock structure. For a long moment, it was calm. Well, as calm as hiding from a murderous clown spider could be. 

Pennywise turned his head, staring right at them, but he didn’t move. 

“Holy shit!” Eddie screamed.

“Can he see us?” Richie asked, and as if answering his question, the clown ran right at them. Eddie started running, hoping to god that Richie was following him. Sure enough, Richie was, his hand wrapped around Eddie’s wrist. 

They came to a stop in front of three doors, a weird extension of Pennywise smashing some invisible barrier behind them. Obviously it was an attempt to force them to pick a door. 

Eddie was terrified. He didn’t want to know what was behind the doors, didn’t want to know what Pennywise deemed ‘very scary’. 

“Not scary at all right?” He asked, pulling towards the door. 

“No!” Richie cried, pulling him towards the very scary door, which seemed like an incredibly bad idea, even for them. “They’re flipped, he’s fucking with us.” 

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked, eyeing the very scary door. He really didn’t want to open it. 

“Trust me,” Richie said.

And fuck, he did. He trusted Richie with his entire heart. He just wanted to get out of there, alive, with his husband still with him, and if that simply meant trusting Richie? Well, Eddie could do that. But he still wanted to be 100% certain. 

“Positive?” He asked. 

“Yes!” Richie cried, tugging them forwards.

He looked back, flinching as the teeth like creature smashed into the barrier, and for a second he thought of his friends. Were they okay? Were they even still alive? Had Pennywise gotten to them already? Or were they faced with a similar choice as they were? 

Richie opened the door. 

The room was dark, a single string hanging from the ceiling. Richie clicked it on, revealing a closet. 

“See?” Richie said, laughing slightly hysterically. “Everything’s fine.” 

“Have you seen my shoes?” Someone called from inside, and Eddie watched in horror as a disembodied waist came running towards them, clicking her heels. 

Richie and him screamed as they slammed the door back shut. 

“He’s not fucking with us!” Richie said, and the two of them ran towards the not scary at all door. Which Eddie was the first to suggest, so honestly fuck the clown. 

Eddie really didn’t want to open the door, but Richie was already reaching forwards, so Eddie tensed up and waited to see what was on the other side. 

The door creaked open, and they both let out sighs of relief as they looked at a tunnel leading out. Then they looked down, and there sat a cute little Pomeranian that looked absolutely identical to Katz back at home. 

Edie briefly remembered Richie making some crack about Pennywise looking like a Pomeranian, but that really wasn’t what he was focusing on right now. 

“No way am I falling for this shit again,” He breathed out, staring down at the identical copy of his literal child. 

“Yeah no,” Richie said. “That things a fucking monster.” He leaned down, getting closer to the dog. “I know your moves you little bitch.” 

In retrospect, Eddie knew that Richie was yelling at the embodiment of Pennywise. But to him, it just looked like his husband was cursing out their dog. 

Eddie risked a look back, startled to see that whatever extension that had been chasing them had disappeared. 

“Richie,” He said. “It’s gone.” 

“Oh,” Richie said, turning around and then back to the puppy. “I’m not done with this.” He threatened. “Sit!” He said angrily. 

The dog sat. 

“He did it,” Richie said, almost like he didn’t think he would. 

“Okay, that’s cute,” Eddie said, smiling slightly. “That’s a good boy.” 

“That’s actually super cute,” Richie said. 

“That’s a good boy,” Eddie continued cooing, thinking of his own dog way back in his home. 

“Good boy,” Richie said with him, a soft smile creeping on his lips. 

The dog suddenly changed, his fur and skin changing as bones snapped into some sort of creature out of a horror movie. 

Eddie stumbled back, screaming as Richie slammed the door shut. 

“Next time,” He panted as Richie grabbed his hand and tugged him back to where they came from. “We’re picking scary.” 

“Next time?” Richie asked. Eddie didn’t bother answering him. 

“Shit,” He said as they crashed into the entrance, staring at the scene in front of them. The rest of the losers seemed mostly fine, thank god, but Pennywise seemed to be taunting them, playing with them like they were food. 

“We have to do something,” Richie said, turning to him. “We can’t leave them alone.” 

“Richie,” Eddie said, fear crawling up his throat again. He didn’t want that clown anywhere near either of them, didn’t want to do this anymore. “Richie I don’t-“ 

“It’s okay,” Richie said, smiling as he reached down and picked up a rock. “I’m not leaving. We’ll get through this together, and then we can go home and see the real Katz and I will actually take him out for walks.” 

“No you wont,” Eddie said, his hands curling tighter against the fence post Beverly gave him. 

“No, I won’t.” Richie laughed, quickly reaching down to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.” 

Eddie didn’t get the chance to respond before Richie was running out into the fray, screaming at the clown. 

“Hey fuckface!” He screamed, and Pennywise turned his head to stare at him. “You want to play truth or dare? Here’s a truth, you’re a sloppy bitch!” 

Eddie didn’t think he had ever loved his husband more than in that moment, facing off an interdimensional being and the best insult he could think of was calling him a sloppy bitch. 

“Yeah, that’s right.” Richie continued, pulling his arm back and getting ready to throw. “Let’s dance! Yippie-Ki-yay motherfuck-“ 

He was cut off as Pennywise opened his mouth, and a bright light shone through. Eddie watched in horror as Richie went limp, his knees turning inwards as the rock slipped from his grasp. Slowly, Richie crawled upwards, levitating over the ground. Eddie was reminded of Beverly once again. 

“No,” He whispered, wanting to run forwards, to yank his husband out of the fucking clowns grasp, to yank Richie down to earth and out of the deadlights. 

He looked down at the fence post in his hands, remembering Beverly’s words to him. 

“This kills monsters,” He muttered. “If you believe it does.” 

Eddie was never one for believing, he was never one for trusting things that weren’t based in facts, things he couldn’t turn into numbers of statistics, things that weren’t predictable. But right now, he looked to his side and he could see Richie flouting in the air, limbs lifeless almost like he was dead. And Eddie felt like he could believe in anything. 

He could do anything for Richie, would do anything to make sure his husband, his best friend, his soul mate, was safe. So he took a deep breath, turned to face the clown that had terrorized his childhood, ruined his happy life, and now was attempting to kill his husband. 

He took a deep breath, and he threw the monster killer through the air. 

_______________________________________________

Richie felt dead. 

That’s really the only way to describe it. 

He looked into those stupid light things, and now he can’t properly think. Everything was white, images and flashes of pictures scrolling past his eyes faster than he could comprehend, voices and screaming ringing in his ears too loud to listen too. 

And-

_”Richie!”_

_“Eddie!”_

Images of blood splattering over his glasses, Eddie sitting on the ground, staring at him with blank eyes, Ben holding him back as he screamed for someone. 

Pain overtook his mind, excruciating pain that would have made his breath fall from his lungs if he could actually feel his breathing rate. It hurt like hell, the kind of pain that aches deep inside your chest, the kind of pain that you feel everywhere, building and rising into a crescendo. The kind of pain that you don’t come back from. The pain of heartbreak. 

Then it was gone, and the world was filtering back through and the only pain he felt was from his back colliding against the stone ground. 

The breath was knocked out of his lungs as he hit, small little rocks jabbing up into his back and he was way too old to be dropping from suck highs onto the unforgiving ground. But he can’t focus on it too long because Eddie is jumping on top of him, grinning like an idiot. 

“I did it Richie,” His husband said, his pupils blown wide and a grin on his lips. Richie was having trouble following. “I think I did it Richie, I think I killed It for real!”

Richie glanced behind his husband, and sure enough eh huge body of Pennywise lay still, a giant spike through It’s chest and the fence post through It’s throat. And fuck, did Eddie really kill It? 

Eddie laughed, and Richie moved his hands up, cupping Eddie’s cheek and he no longer cared, he no longer gave a single shit what everyone else thought, he was going to kiss Eddie, he was going to plant his lips firmly on there because It was gone. It would no longer terrorize them and they made it out alive, mostly all of them. 

He started to lean up, and Eddie was coming to meet him when there was a sickly noise, and Richie felt the warm spray of blood cover his face. 

For a second he wasn’t sure what happened. Only that Eddie was staring at him with wide eyes, and Richie could see the pain hidden behind them and he wanted it to go away. He didn’t want to see that look on his face. 

“Richie,” Eddie whispered, blood falling from his lips and Richie swore his heart broke into two. 

“Eddie,” Richie whispered in panic, his eyes flickering down to the fucking claw sticking out of his chest and oh my god-

Eddie was suddenly pulled from his grip, too fast for Richie to grab a hold before he lost his husband. Before the love of his life was being whipped through the air, the fucking clown _playing with him_ and Richie had never felt this way. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the feelings surging through his gut, the anger, the grief, the shock. 

Eddie was flung into a cave; Richie was following without thinking. He couldn’t think, couldn’t process anything other than the image of that claw in Eddie’s chest, the look of pure pain and fear on his husbands face. 

He and the other losers make it to Eddie, and Richie isn’t even the first one there. He stands at the back, unable to do anything but stare for a single minute because Eddie is bleeding out on the fucking dirty-ass floor and Richie felt like he was dying as well. 

He could almost hear Eddie bitching about how unsanitary that was. 

Like a spell was broken, Richie was falling to his knees, tearing off his jacket and pressing it against the wound. Eddie winced, but Richie couldn’t bring himself to apologize for trying to save his life. 

Because he was going to be fine. This was fine. They would get him out of here, take him to a hospital, and then Eddie would be fine. 

“Keep the pressure on,” Richie said, and Eddie’s own hand tangled into the jacket, their fingers sloppily linking together as they both pressed down. 

“I almost killed It,” Eddie gasped out. 

“We know,” Bev cooed, sitting by his head. At the entrance of the cave, they could hear It taunting them, calling to them. Richie ignored It. “You were so brave.” 

“No,” Eddie said, coughing and more blood splattered out of his mouth. “Before, at the pharmacy.” 

“What?” Ben asked, kneeling beside Richie, one hand on Eddie’s shoulder, the other on Richie’s back, steady, grounding, alive. 

“I had my hands around It’s neck,” Eddie said, his other hand limply raising in imitation. “And I was choking it, I could feel the life draining from It’s body.” 

“All life has to abide by the form it’s in,” Mike whispered. 

“That’s it!” Bev cried, looking over at them. “We can kill It! There’s that tunnel over there, if we make it there we can force it to become smaller, and then we can kill It.” 

“That might work,” Mike said, his eyes flickering to Eddie. “What about-“ 

“I can do it,” Eddie cut him off. “Someone help me up.” 

Richie didn’t hesitate, his one hand hooking under Eddies side while the other stayed firmly pressed against his chest. He tried not to think about the blood seeping into his hands, staining them just like they stained his glasses and shirt. He didn’t think about how his husband’s lifeblood was literally seeping into his skin. 

Ben moved to the other side, and as a group they snuck out the side, It not realizing they had left. The made it only around twenty steps before Eddie’s was begging them to give him a rest. He had a thick glean of sweat on his face, panting like he ran a million miles. 

“Richie,” Eddie said, his hands reaching out. Richie tangled their fingers together, bringing them up to press onto the wound in a desperate attempt to keep the blood in. “Richie I need to tell you something.” 

“Of course,” Richie said, staring into Eddie’s eyes. Eddie was good at hiding his emotions, but right now they were in full force, shining through his eyes in a way that only Richie knew how to read. Pain, sorrow, fear, acceptance, love. 

“I fucked your mom.” Eddie whispered. 

Richie knew what he really meant. 

The others had made a run for it, all except him, Bill and Mike, and It smashed through the cave and for a second Richie truly believed they would make it. 

But It stopped them seconds before they made it, hissing words at them that Richie couldn’t fully process. 

They were going to die here. Eddie had a hole in his fucking chest and the rest of them would follow, just victims of the fucking clown, destined to die in the dirty sewers. 

“Go help them,” He told Mike and Bill, his eyes locking back onto Eddie’s. “I’ll take care of him.” 

The two of them ran off, and distantly Richie could hear them talking, starting to scream at Pennywise, Richie only focused on Eddie. 

“Richie,” Eddie said softly, his voice breaking. “Richie baby.” 

“You hold on alright?” He asked, his own voice sounding on the verge of breaking into a thousand pieces. “You promised me Eds, you promised not to leave me.” 

“Don’t call me Eds,” He muttered, blinking sluggishly. Richie could feel how his hands were starting to relax under his own, so he pressed harder, making up for Eddie’s weakness. “You know I hate that.” 

“If you die on me,” He said, his voice breaking on the word die. “I will write every single embarrassing nickname I have for you on your gravestone.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“I will!” He insisted, laughing weakly. “I swear I will.” 

“I better stay alive then,” Eddie said weakly. “Are they bullying Pennywise?” 

Richie looked over to his friends, and sure enough, they were screaming at the clown, calling him names and it looked like it was actually hurting It. 

“Making him feel small I guess?” Richie offered, before joining in. “You’re a dumb fucking clown!” He screamed. 

“Classy,” Eddie coughed. “You need to go help them.” 

“What?” He said, turning to stare at Eddie. “No, I’m not doing that.” 

“They-“ He cut himself off, coughing harshly as more blood dribbled down his chin. “They need you Rich; they can’t do it alone. Please, you have to go.” 

“I’m not leaving you.” Richie insisted, holding onto him tighter in protest. Eddie was crazy if he thought Richie was going to eave him there. 

“Richie!” Eddie said urgently. “Please, you need to help them. If you don’t we’ll all die here.” 

“Eddie,” He pleaded, feeling smaller than he ever had before. 

“I’ll be here when you get back,” Eddie said with a soft smile. “I promise I will be here and you will get me out of this fucking sewer and in two weeks we’ll be back home, cuddling with Katz and listening to our friends' bitch at us.” 

“You promise?” Richie said, and Eddie squeezed his hand. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Eddie said, his voice firm. “Now go kill that stupid ass clown for me.” 

Richie bite his lip, before he reluctantly tore himself away from Eddie, running over to where his friends had cornered the clown, who was growing smaller by the second. 

His eyes flickered to the stupid claw by his feet, the one covered in dark red blood. 

He reached down and grabbed it, ripping with all his strength and feeling victorious as the claw tore away from the body. He slammed it onto the ground. 

Pennywise shrunk into a little melted head, and Richie stared at him with nothing but anger, nothing but spite. That thing had skewered his husband, had tried to take the most important thing in Richie’s life away. 

Bill reached into the clown’s chest, and pulled out his weakly beating heart. Richie was the first to put his hand over it, more than ready to get the revenge he needed. They all placed a hand, and slowly they squeezed. 

It died. 

They crushed his heart into nothing and watched the deadlights go out in his eyes, and Richie should feel something. 

Relief, happiness, joy. 

All he felt was empty. 

He turned tail and ran back over to Eddie, the others not far behind. 

He fell to his knees in front of his husband, smiling like an idiot. 

“We got It man,” He said. “We did it.” 

Eddie did not respond. 

Richie reached out, his hand cupping Eddie’s cheek. 

“Eddie?” He asked, the smile dropping from his face. He didn’t understand. 

“Richie,” Bev sobbed form behind him, and Richie turned around. She looked like she was in pain, tears dripping down her cheeks. 

They all looked in pain. Mike’s face was devastated, Bill was fucking crying, and Ben looked like someone killed his dog. 

Which didn’t make sense, because Eddie was fine. They just needed to get him out of there and to the hospital, and then he’d be fine. 

“He’s okay!” He insisted, turning back to Eddie. “He’s fine, he’s just hurt. We need to get him out of here guys.” 

“Richie,” She said again. 

He bit his lip, tear springing to his eyes but it was fine. Eddie was just sleeping. 

“What?” He asked, turning to face her. 

“Honey,” She said softly. “He’s dead.” 

No. 

No. 

No. 

He can’t be dead. 

He isn’t dead, he’s fine, he’s just sleeping and Richie knew he couldn’t be dead. Richie would know if Eddie was dead. He couldn’t be dead he promised. He promised not to leave, that he would be there when Richie got back and Eddie never broke his promises. He wasn’t dead. 

Something inside him broke apart. 

Something shattered into a million pieces and he felt it like glass stabbing into him over and over again.

“We have to go Richie, come on we have to go,” Bev said, but he couldn’t. 

“W-we gotta go,” Bill said, and distantly Richie knew that the place was coming down around him. Hands grabbed at his shoulders, trying to pry him away.

He launched himself towards Eddie, grabbing his husband’s shoulders and cradling him against his chest, fighting against the hands trying to pull himself away. He couldn’t leave Eddie here, it was dirty and he would hate it and he just just injured, he needed help. 

“Come on man!” Mike cried, his voice sounding hoarse. “We gotta go, please Richie!” 

Richie only held Eddie closer, tucking his head into the side of his neck.

“We can still help him!” Richie screamed, and he was sobbing now. 

They wanted to drag him away, wanted to leave Eddie here among the rubble and let him die. They wanted to let him die and Richie wouldn’t do this. Richie couldn’t let them do this. He couldn’t leave Eddie here. They could still help him.

Bill pulled him back, and Richie’s grip on Eddie failed, and his husband slipped back to the floor. 

“No! Guys we can still help him!” He screamed as they started dragging him away. Why wouldn’t they help him? He turned the last help he could get, the only person in this entire room who could understand. “Ben please!” 

Ben looked torn, his face screwed up in honest to god pain and Richie hated it. He hated how they were still dragging him away because there was still time! He could still help him! 

“Ben please!” His voice broke, and Ben bit his lip, Bev pulling at his arm. “Please Ben I can’t leave him here.” 

“Fuck,” Ben whispered. “Fuck!” Then he was running was to Eddie, and Richie sobbed as Ben softly lifted Eddie into the air, cradling him close as they ran. 

Richie let himself get dragged away, his eyes not once leaving Ben and Eddie. They got out as the house started to collapse, but Richie wasn’t paying attention. 

All he could focus on was where Ben was gently laying Eddie on the ground. All he could focus on was how limp his husband looked, how frail he looked. His eyes were closed, Richie wanted them to open. He wanted to see those beautiful brown eyes. Wanted to see them twinkle with laughter, wanted to see them shine with joy. 

He fell to his knees beside Eddie, his hands pressing into his chest and the other reaching up to press against his neck. 

“Someone call an ambulance.” He said, his voice shaking. 

“Richie,” Bev said softly and he hated it. 

He hated how they were staring at him like Eddie was dead, like they had to pity him because he _lost_ someone. 

“Don’t just fucking stand there!” He screamed. “Help him!” 

Ben was the only one to move, his hands shaking as he grabbed out his phone and dialed 911. 

Richie tore his attention away, his fingers combing through Eddie’s greasy hair. 

“You gotta wake up man,” Richie whispered. “You hear me? You gotta wake up.” 

Eddie didn’t respond. He heard sirens in the distance. 

“You know how pissed Lindsay is going to be if I don’t bring you home?” He asked, tears falling down his cheeks and he barely noticed. “You know how pissed Katz’s is going to be? Who’s going to walk him if you’re gone?” 

His hand cupped Eddie’s cheek, running over the smooth skin. 

“You promised man,” He whispered, his voice breaking as he collapsed his head resting in the curve of his neck and shoulder. “You can’t leave me Eds, you promised not to go.” 

Eddie still didn’t respond. He heard the squeal of tired. 

“You promised!” He screamed, and hands were grasping at him again, pulling him away. “Stop!” He screamed. 

“Richie!” Ben called out, his hands locking around Richie’s form even as he struggled. “You gotta let them take him, they’re going to help him.” 

Distinctly, Richie watched as paramedics lifted Eddie up, yelling medical terms at each other that Richie couldn’t focus on enough to understand. 

“I need to go with him,” He said, and Ben let him go. A paramedic stopped him before he got into the ambulance. 

“I’m sorry sir,” The man said. “But I can’t let you come with us.” 

“What?” He asked, blinking. “Why not?” 

“You’re covered in dirt and blood, and the chance of infection is high. You need to wash yourself off first.” 

“You got to be fucking kidding me-“ He growled. There was no way he was letting Eddie go off alone. 

“Sir please,” The man stressed. “We can’t do this; we need to get going now if your friend has any chance.” 

Before Richie could respond, the man was running off and the car was driving away, taking Eddie with them. 

Richie felt like a piece of himself was leaving too. 

He barely had any time to warn the others before he was crashing to the ground, sobbing and shaking. 

Distantly, he heard another car drive off, and slowly someone put a hand on his shoulder. He turned and buried his head into Bev’s arms, sobbing as she held him. 

“He’s going to be okay,” She said, and it sounded like a lie. But it was a lie he was willing to believe. 

He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to scream at me in the comments, I'm pretty scream friendly.


	10. Get closer to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter makes no sense, it's because I'm sick and on like three types of medicine. But I didn't want to keep you guys waiting lmao.

  
Mike and Bill were the only ones not completely covered in mud and dirt, so they had gone to the hospital after changing into some spare clothes that Mike kept in his car. Bev and him were covered in blood, and Ben had very firmly told the both of them that he wasn’t going to leave either of their sides. 

They found themselves in the barrens. It felt right, that this would be the place they went to wash off. He had his suitcases in the trunk of his car, so he would be able to change out of the sopping ones right after. 

Bev was the first to jump off, Ben following almost immediately. Richie had to pause, to look behind him because even now he was waiting for someone to jump with him. 

But Eddie wasn’t here. 

He ran off the cliff and jumped, pretending that for a second he could fly. He hit the water seconds later. Bev and Ben were already washing off, Bev furiously scrubbing at her skin as dried flecks of blood slowly peeled off. He didn’t ask why she had so much blood covering her. The two of them disappeared under the water, but he didn’t focus enough to see what happened next.

He was too busy pulling off his glasses, holding them in his hand and furiously scrubbing at the right side, even though it wasn’t the side that needed cleaning. He was stuck looking at the left, the tiny spots of blood slowly drying on the glass. 

He hated the fact that it was Eddie’s, that his husbands’ blood was drying on his glasses and Richie was sitting in some dirty ass water instead of waiting in the hospital, instead of being by Eddie’s side. 

He didn’t want to wash away the blood because he felt that it was the last part of Eddie he had right now. He had to admit it, had to admit that maybe when he got back to the hospital that Eddie would be gone. That he would just be a body with a hold in his chest, no memory of Richie left. 

“Eddie would have hated this,” Ben said softly, letting out a soft laugh. Richie couldn’t bring himself to look up, stuck staring at the blood glistening on the lens. 

“What?” Bev asked. “Washing ourselves off in dirty water?” 

“Yeah,” Ben said, letting out a half-choked laugh and then it went silent. Richie knew they were staring at him, waiting for him to crack some kind of joke because that’s what he did. He was the trash mouth, always ready to cheer someone up with a joke or a voice or something else. But he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t make a joke right now because he felt like there was a gaping hole in his own chest, draining out everything he had inside and he wanted to scream, wanted to sob and hit something, do anything to get rid of the absence of Eddie. 

He started to cry. 

Bev and Ben were there seconds later, both grabbing onto him and hugging him like there was no tomorrow. Ben stared up at him with pain in his eyes, and Richie knew that someone understood. At least a little bit. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Bev said softly. “He’s going to pull through.” 

Richie dropped his glasses, his hand reaching up over his neck because screw the stupid blood, he needed something else, another reminder that maybe this wasn’t a dream, that Eddie was still here. 

He grabbed at his wedding ring, stung around his neck and he wanted to slip it back over his finger because he was _tired_. Tired of pretending to not love his husband, tired of pretending that them not being gay was going to save them. Eddie still almost died, Eddie could still die, and it wasn’t because of some homophobic asshole, it was from something so much worse. 

“I can’t lose him,” He whispered, his hands clenching around the ring, the cold band digging into his skin. “I love him.” 

“I know,” Bev cooed, her grip tightening. “He’s going to be fine, and you can go tell him that and everything will work out.” 

“He already knows that,” Richie said with a choked off laugh. “Fuck Bev, I married him so he better know that I love him.” 

Beverly was silent for a long moment. Richie waited for a fist, for a slap, for harsh words. 

He never got it. 

Bev simply flung herself onto him, her arms circling around his neck and holding onto him so tight he thought he would stop breathing.

“I’m so sorry,” She whispered. “Oh my god Rich.” 

“Yeah,” He sobbed in response to the words she wasn't able to speak. “Tell me about it.” 

She pulled back, her own teary eyes meeting his and she pressed their foreheads together, her hand reaching down to wrap around his own. 

“How long?” She whispered. 

“We’ve been together almost twenty years,” He said softly. “I’m sorry I lied.” 

“Oh, I’m going to tear you a new one for that later,” She cooed. “But right now, I think we better just go and get you to your husband huh?” 

Richie smiled at her, and then blinked. 

“Thank you,” He whispered. “Whoever you are. I can’t see a thing.” 

Bev and Ben laughed, both of them backing up and looking around. Richie was content to just sit there for now, staring at the unfocused world around him. It still hurt, of course, it did, but there was a weight off his shoulders knowing that people could understand why he felt this way, why he cared so much. 

Bev and Ben dove under the water, and when they came back out they were kissing. 

“You guys are like twenty years late there!” He called out. “Now stop trading spit and bring me my fucking glasses so I can go see my husband.” 

___________________________________________

He had been sort of calm at the barrens, sitting in that water cleaning off, but now that he was staring at the hospital, ready to go in, he felt terrified. 

It didn’t stop him from marching in though, because the only thing worse than facing the hospital waiting room was facing being any further from Eddie. Bill and Mike sat in the corner, Bill asleep on Mike’s shoulder, their hands entwined together. Eddie owed him five bucks. 

Bev and Ben sat bedside them, Mike saying something that was probably just filling them in on the jack shit they had so far, but Richie couldn’t bring himself to sit down. He paced the room, his hands fiddling with the ring still hanging from his neck. 

They stayed that way for an hour, none of them able to coax Richie into doing anything more than pacing back and forth over and over again. He couldn’t help it; he just couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t be calm when his husband was literally fighting for his life right now and he couldn’t be there. 

He sat down once three hours had passed, and refused to leave that seat for the rest of the night. 

He waited there all night, even when the others left with promises to be back the second they could. The doctor didn’t come for them until around noon the next day.

“Are you the group here with Eddie Kaspbrak?” He asked, and Richie had never stood up faster. 

“Is he okay?” He asked, his heart pounding a million miles per hour. 

“Sorry sir, I can only disclose information to a family member.” The doctor said. “Is his wife or something here?” 

He looked over hopefully at Bev, even though she was practically in Ben’s lap at the moment. 

“Um,” Bill said awkwardly. “His wi-“ 

“I’m his husband,” Richie blurted out. “And they count as family too, so you can just say it to all of us.” 

“Um,” The doctor blinked at him, his lips curling up slightly and Richie stared coolly back, daring him to say something. “It was touch and go for a while, but he is currently stable.” 

Richie felt like someone punched him in the gut. He let out a soft whimper, and Bev was suddenly at his side, guiding him down to a chair, since his legs felt like they were going to give out at any moment. 

Eddie was alive. 

He was alive.

Richie put his head in his hands, the adrenaline he had been running on crashing down faster than he thought possible. 

“Can I see him?” Richie cut off whatever bullshit the doctor was saying, and the man blinked at him. 

“He’s just getting settled now,” The doctor said. “I can get a nurse to bring you to him when he’s ready.” 

“Thank you,” He whispered, and even though the dude was most likely a homophobic asshole, he had helped save Eddie’s life. 

“There’s something you need to know sir,” The doctor continued. “I think it might be best for all of you to sit down for a second.” 

Richie felt his heart rate spike again. 

“What is it?” He asked, staring at the man, who had the decency to look slightly sad. “What’s wrong?” 

“When the piece of wood pierced through the back of his chest, it managed to just barely missed severing his spinal cord,” The doctor started. “But it did scrape it.” 

“What does that mean?” Mike asked, his face scrunched up. Richie couldn’t speak. 

“It means that Mr. Kaspbrak most likely won’t be able to walk again.” 

Richie couldn’t hear the rest of the doctor’s words through the rushing in his head. 

Eddie was paralyzed. From the waist down apparently. It didn’t mean anything, and Richie didn’t give a single fuck. Eddie was alive, and that was all that mattered, but what was Eddie going to say? The fucking clown had taken so much from them. Their childhood, Stan, and now this? Eddie’s ability to walk? To move? 

They would get through it together, they had to. 

“Richie?” Bev asked, her voice soft. “Are you okay?” 

“He’s going to be fucking pissed,” Richie let out a laugh, but there wasn’t anything funny to it at all. “I’m going to have to listen to him bitch about this for the rest of my life.” 

“Richie,” Bill said, sounding stern. Richie looked over at him, raising an eyebrow at what looked like Bill’s attempt at a disappointed face. There was a reason the man didn’t have children. He looked constipated. “You know that you just made a huge mess right?” 

Richie didn’t get it. 

“What’s going to happened when his wife actually shows up?” Oh. Well, that should have been what he expected. “You can’t just go around pretending that you’re his husband.” 

He couldn’t help it, he started laughing, wheezing and he couldn’t stop. It wasn’t even funny, not really, but the relief of hearing that Eddie was alive, the absurd notion that Myra would show up or something, it just cracked him up. 

“Richie,” Mike said, using the same tone as Bill, and that made it worse. Beside him, he heard Bev try and fail to hide her own laughter, Ben soon following as the three of them giggled, all exhausted and tired and relieved. 

“Are we missing something?” Bill asked, and Richie shook his head, silent tears running down his face as he scrambled at his neckline, bringing out the ring. 

“I’m not pretending shit,” He said, still laughing slightly. “I’m actually married to Eddie dude, Myra was just a scape coat cause we didn’t want to tell anyone.” 

“I’m not following,” Bill said, blinking rapidly. “You and Eddie married?” 

“Fuck yeah baby,” Richie said, grinning. “I actually managed to get hitched, despite all you thinking I never would.” 

Bill and Mike stared at him for a long time, before they too burst out laughing. 

“Jesus Christ,” Mike said, hands pressing against his face. “I should have seen that coming.” 

“We were pretty shit at hiding it,” He admitted, shrugging easily. He wasn’t scared anymore, wasn’t afraid, because Eddie was alive and yeah he was hurt badly but he was living, breathing, and Richie could hold him and kiss him without fear now. 

“You’re telling me,” Ben snorted. “You guys literally made out in front of me and then tried to play it off like you didn’t.” 

“What?” Bev said, head whipping between Richie and Ben. “You told him before me?” 

“In my defense,” Richie said. “I didn’t know he was there.” 

They all laughed again, relaxing back into the chair as relief coursed through all their veins. It wasn’t perfect, of course it wasn’t. Eddie was still in the hospital, fucking paralyzed and knocked out after hours of touch and go surgery, so of course it wasn’t perfect. But Eddie was _alive_ and Richie could have asked for nothing more than that. 

_____________________________

The nurse brought them back into the room only a few minutes later, and Richie wasn’t prepared for how much he hated seeing Eddie lying on that white bed, looking so frail and breakable that Richie thought laying a single finger would snap him in half. 

He sat in the closest chair to the bed, pulling it even closer than before, reaching forwards to lace his fingers through Eddie’s, his other hand reaching up to brush back a lock of his husbands’ hair. 

“Oh yeah,” Bill said, grabbing the next chair over. “You two are obvious.” 

“Fuck off,” Richie said, but he didn’t pry his eyes away from Eddie’s face, slack and calm. He was on a lot of drugs clearly, but the nurse said he should wake up within a day or two. Richie leaned forwards, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s forehead and ignoring the soft ‘awe’ all his friends made. 

He had his husband back, safe and in one piece. 

But every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Eddie’s face hovering over him, blood pouring out of his mouth as he whimpered Richie’s name. All he could see was him sitting against that rock, eyes closed and barely breathing, looking dead. 

Richie shuddered, his fingers moving to press into the pulse point on his wrist, the steady thrum under his fingertips reminding him that this was real, that they didn’t leave Eddie down there. 

It felt like a dream, one that he would wake up from to realize that Eddie was dead, that Richie was now alone. The thought of that made him gag, made him want to cry and scream because he couldn’t live like that. He didn’t know how to live without Eddie. Ever since they met in kindergarten, Richie had known that he would spend his entire life with Eddie. And he had. 

The realization that maybe there could have been such a big change, well it scared him. He had never known life without Eddie, even when they sometimes were apart, they would constantly text and call, even just to bitch at each other. What would Richie do if he couldn’t wake up every day with Eddie by his side? Who would do all his laundry? How would bitch at him and tell him he was a fucking slob? Who would he cuddle late at night? 

Eddie was a big part of his life, and a very very important one too. Richie had lived his life beside Eddie, and to him, there was nothing without his husband. And little over a day ago he was faced with the reality that Eddie was almost torn away from him. 

He felt like he was never going to let Eddie go. Eddie would have to go everywhere with him glued to his side. Richie wouldn’t even let him take a shit without Richie banging down the door demanding to see if he was okay. 

But it would work. It would work because Richie was going to make it work. Eddie was alive, he was here, and Richie was never going to let him go again. 

The rest of the losers all settled into chairs, content to sit in silence as they all waited for Eddie to once again open his eyes. 

________________________________________

Richie was asleep when it happened. 

It had been a few hours, and he was just so fucking tired that he leaned down onto the bed and fell asleep with his fingers still tangled in Eddie’s hand.

He was in the middle of a dreamless sleep when he heard it, someone’s voice breaking through the haze of sleep. 

“Get the fuck up you asshole.” 

Richie blinked awake, his eyes fluttering open to meet Eddie’s above him. He was sitting up in a second, wincing slightly as his back protested, he was way too old for shit like this. 

“You’re awake,” He blurted out, and Eddie grinned at him. 

“No shit.” He replied. Richie looked around, taking in all the other losers who were all still sleeping soundly. 

“How do you feel baby?” Richie asked, eyes roaming over Eddie’s body. He looked fine, but then again half of him was covered in a blanket. 

“I feel,” Eddie paused, scrunching his face up in a way that Richie found adorable. “I feel like I’m high as fuck.” 

Richie laughed, a relieved noise that was kind of overshadowed by the tears spilling down his cheeks. 

“Hey!” Eddie protested. “No crying, you’re not allowed to cry in my hospital room.” 

“I almost lost you idiot,” He said, raising up Eddie’s hand and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “I’m allowed to fucking cry.” 

“I’m here,” Eddie said, his face softening. “I can’t feel half of my body because of whatever drugs they put me on, but I’m not going anywhere.” 

It would have been sweet, should have been sweet, but Richie’s heart stopped at the words. 

“Oh babe,” He whispered, leaning down and kissing him tightly. “I have to tell you something, something important.” 

Eddie’s face went white, and Richie could practically hear his brain swirling, wondering what Richie was going to tell him. 

Richie opened his mouth to break him the news when Bev woke up. 

“Eddie?” She asked, blinking sluggishly. “Oh my god Eddie!” 

She launched herself forwards, stopping herself seconds before she collided into him, instead reaching up to cup his cheek and press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Hi Bev,” Eddie giggled, seeming to forget about whatever Richie was going to say. He was on a lot of drugs. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. “How do you feel?” 

“I’m fine,” Eddie said, blinking slowly as he yawned. “Tired.” 

“Of course,” Bev said, nodding. “Go back to sleep, we can talk later.” 

“I don’t want to,” Eddie pouted. “I just got up.” 

“You need to heal,” Richie put in. “Go to sleep, we’ll all be here when you wake up.” 

“Promise?” Eddie said, although he was already mostly asleep. 

“Promise.” Richie said. 

Eddie was asleep moments later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay look, I was torn between Richie telling them while in the Barrens washing off as a parallel to the movie, or the classic reveal at the hospital, so I did both. So yeah, I hope you guys enjoyed. I think there should be at least one more chapter, if not two more.


	11. I slithered here from Eden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am still sick so if this chapter seems all voer the place that is why lmao

Eddie woke up a few more times, but he didn’t stay awake for more than ten minutes, exhaustion overtaking him before he was able to have any sort of a functional conversation. Richie had only left the hospital twice in the next week, sleeping in the chair enough that he thought his back was going to give out. 

“How pissed is your manager?” Eddie asked him, cuddled into his side. 

It was a bit tight of a squeeze, but they managed it. Richie was just glad to feel the warmth of Eddie back on his side. 

“I’ve missed my dates in Reno and just told him to cancel all my other ones for the next month. I think he’s debating if he should be job hunting.” Richie sighed, smiling softly. 

“I always told him he’d be better off with another boss,” Eddie joked, and Richie leaned down to boop his nose. 

“I am an amazing boss.” 

“You literally took off without telling him anything and canceled all your tour dates while leaving him to deal with the press.” Eddie deadpanned. 

“Well,” Richie said. “Yeah.” 

He bit his lip, looking away. He did feel kind of guilty, he had to admit. He had seen the blow up online, ad spent hours scrolling through the rumors and scathing comments made on his latest performance. But it was fine, because what was he supposed to do? 

“Hey,” Eddie said softly, tapping his cheek. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” He lied, Eddie raised an eyebrow, but Richie remained stubbornly quiet. Eddie sighed, but went silent, his head leaning down to rest of Richie’s shoulder. 

They had been dancing around each other for a while now. The doctors had only now started to ween him off the major drugs, saying that he should be more alert in the coming days. Which he was ecstatic for, he missed his Eddie. He wanted to talk to his husband without him falling asleep every five minutes, or zoning out and unable to pay attention to anything. He wanted things to go back to normal. 

But then there was the elephant in the room that they needed to address. Richie still hasn’t told him about his legs. 

Eddie had mentioned it more than once, chalking up his inability to move to the intense drugs he was on, but now that they were taking him off of the major painkillers, well it was going to be hard to ignore. 

Richie had to tell him, and looking around, he knew that now was a perfect time. The rest of the losers had gone back to the hotel, since they all had lives they needed to organize. None of them wanted to leave, not yet, but they had arrangements to make, phone calls to take. Eddie and him were alone. 

“Hey Eds?” He asked, hoping that Eddie was asleep again and he would have time to actually prepare this instead of making it up as he went. 

“Yeah?” Eddie responded. Well, he was always good at improvising. 

“I need to have a serious conversation with you honey,” He said softly, and Eddie groaned, lifting his head. 

“That’s worrisome,” He said. “Am I dying doc?”

It was a joke; it was meant to be a joke and yet Richie couldn’t bring himself to laugh. 

“Richie?” Eddie said, looking concerned now. Richie hated the shine of panic behind his eyes. “I was joking.” 

“I know,” Richie said, leaning down and kissing him softly. “But this is important Eds, there’s something I need to tell you and you’re not going to like it.” 

“Just tell me,” Eddie said, his face carefully blank. 

“I’m so sorry baby,” Richie cooed. “But when the It stabbed you, it-well- fuck!” 

Richie cursed, the words getting stuck in his throat and he brought a hand up to his face, his eyes watering. Eddie was silent. 

How was he supposed to tell his husband that he would never be able to walk again? How could he tell Eddie that the stupid fucking clown had taken away something that they could never get back? 

“Richie,” Eddie said, the panic in his voice undeniable. Richie turns away, unable to stomach the look on his face. “Just tell me.” 

“You’re paralyzed.” He blurts out. 

The silence in the room lasts for about five seconds. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, sounding on the edge of hyperventilating. “I’m fucking what?” 

He can hear shuffling around, and Richie turns back to see Eddie desperately trying to move, his eyes blown wide in panic and his mouth opening and closing as he gasps for air. 

“Baby,” Richie cried, darting forwards and grabbing his shoulder. “Breath baby, come on, breathe for me.” 

Eddie smacks at his hands, his eyes slamming shut as he gasps for air. Richie is at a loss. 

He keeps babbling out nonsense, telling him that everything was going to be okay, that he needed to breathe, that they would get through this. The words fell from his lips like water, pouring out like puke. 

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” Eddie said once his breathing was somewhat under control. “You let me believe I was fine for almost a fucking week.” 

“I didn’t know how,” Richie protested, pulling away to look Eddie in the eyes. He had tears pouring down his cheeks and Richie felt like shit. “You were in and out of consciousness and I didn’t want to upset you.” 

“Well I’m pretty fucking upset right now!” Eddie exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “I can’t fucking move Richie! I can’t feel my fucking legs and you told me it was because I was on a lot of drugs!” 

“I never said that,” Richie disagreed. “I never told you that.” 

“You didn’t tell me it wasn’t,” Eddie shot back. “I mentioned it so many times and every time you just agreed with me, or let me think that I was right. That’s the same thing as telling me it!” 

“Eddie please,” Richie begged, his hands reaching forwards in an attempt to cup his husband’s cheek, a move they often did when the other was freaking out. Eddie batted his hand away. “I’m sorry baby, it was wrong of me and I get that but that isn’t what we need-“ 

“I want a minute alone,” Eddie cut in, his voice suddenly sounding very small. 

“Eds,” Richie said, his chest aching because he was the reason his husband looked so defeated. 

“Please Richie,” Eddie said, his voice barely a whisper. “Just, I need a minute.” 

“Okay,” Richie said, and it was a physical challenge to not reach out and hug him. “I’m going to go back to the Inn and take a shower. I’ll be right back okay hun?” 

Eddie didn’t reply. 

Richie didn’t want to leave. He wanted to hold Eddie close and tell him that everything would be okay, make him believe that they were better than this stupid thing. But instead, he turned and walked out the door. 

______________________________________

Paralyzed. 

Eddie couldn’t believe it. 

Well, he had to believe it, because there was no denying it, but he just didn’t want to. 

He had been so stupid. He knew something was wrong, knew from the first few times he woke up that feeling in his legs was wonky. But Richie never mentioned it, all the other losers acted like everything was fine so Eddie believed them on that. But fuck, he was so stupid. 

He rested his hand on his knee, trying to feel the weight of it against his skin. 

Nothing. 

He screwed his fingers into a claw, fingernails digging into his skin as he pinched the skin as hard as he could until he could feel the wet slide of blood between them. 

Still nothing. 

He bit back a sob, using his arms to couch himself back until he could lean against the crappy headboard. He focused as hard as he could, trying in vain to just move his legs. Shake his foot. Wiggle his little toe. 

There was nothing. No feeling, no movement, no pain, no nothing. 

He put his head into his hands and sobbed. 

He never really thought about a fate worse than death. Sure, dying would be the ultimate no-no, but this? This was almost as worse. 

He lived to move, lived to walk Katz, to go to the gym, to play tennis with Richie during the summer. All those things that brought him joy, he couldn’t have that anymore. He would be forever forced to sit around in a wheelchair, his legs, and body deteriorating because he was unable to move. 

Anger had been a faithful companion for his entire life. Even as a child, he had swung from a well-mannered meek child to almost manic, anger and energy bubbling under his skin. He wasn’t sure what his mom gave him as a child, but he knew there were more than a few sedatives, things made to dull all most emotions. Once he was off of them, the anger had been his primary focus. 

It was easy to be angry, to get mad. As a teenager all he did was yell at his mom, curse her out and demand answers for what she did to him. As he got older he directed that anger wherever he could. Drivers on the street, the other kids in school, the toaster that stopped working just to spite him. It took him a long time to let go of that anger, to learn that there were better ways to deal with things like joy, happiness, love. 

But it was always there, under his skin, bubbling and begging to be let out. And for the first time in years, Eddie let it. 

He balled his hands into fists and struck out onto his legs, over and over again as tears ran down his face as his chest protested at the movement. 

It hurt like hell, his chest screaming as he pulled at the newly sew together skin, and he knew he would absolutely freak if he pulled a stitch. But at the moment he couldn’t really focus on that. His blood was rushing through his veins and he wanted to feel something. He wanted to feel the pain of the forming bruises on his legs, wanted to feel the small crescent-shaped cuts he dug into his skin. 

But there was nothing there, just a numb nothingness he can’t believe he missed. It was like his body was cut off at his waist, all feeling stopping and fading into nothing. 

That stupid fucking clown had taken so much from him. 

It terrified him when he was a teenager, making him beyond paranoid for years until he moved away, and then he stole the memories of the only people he loved, taking away memories of his husband as well, and now, in one final fuck you, he took away Eddie’s legs. 

Eddie collapsed backwards, his energy leaving him quickly as he fell back onto the pillow, tears continuing to stream down his cheeks. He no longer felt angry, just defeated. He wasn’t sure how to adjust, how to move on like this. A part of him knew that he’d figure it out, that he would move past this and find a way to give his own final fuck you to that stupid clown, but at the moment it was all bleak. 

He suddenly wished that he didn’t send Richie away. He was stupid for getting mad at his husband, who had to be reeling just like he was. Richie had only ever helped him, even when they were fighting over something stupid. And Jesus Christ Eddie almost died. He almost died and here he was throwing a bitch fit because he couldn’t walk. 

He took a deep breath, trying in vain to get his swirling emotions under control but he just felt so goddamn tired and defeated and empty and he wanted Richie here. He wanted to hold onto his husband and pretend that everything was fine, that everything would go back to normal. 

He reached over and grabbed his phone, quickly dialing Richie’s number. 

“Yeah?” His husbands' voice came through, sounding guarded and wary, like he was afraid of something. 

“Please come back.” 

“I’ll be right there.” 

____________________________________

They got him a wheelchair a week later. 

Eddie was going stir crazy sitting in that room with the white walls. It reminded him of how it was as a child, getting carted off to the hospital every time he breathed wrong. He hated that stupid hospital room, hated the stupid hospital, and hated the fact that he couldn’t just get up and walk out of it. Eddie threatened to sign himself out AMA and fucking drag himself out like some zombie on the Walking Dead if they didn’t let him do something.

They compromised with a wheelchair. 

Eddie still couldn’t do much activity, his chest still healing and every little bit of physical activity made it ache and stole the air from his lungs. But they agreed that he could go out on his wheelchair, as long as he had someone to push it. Moving it himself for just be too strenuous for him. 

He hated the fact that he had to depend on the others, that even now that he had a method of moving he wasn’t allowed to do it fully on his own terms. He hated a lot of things lately, but he tried his best to quell the anger into pure annoyance around the others. 

He also hated how understanding everyone was. How they all waited patiently for him to drag himself into his chair even if it took almost thirty minutes. How they talked to him in soothing tones that were somewhere between pity and understanding. How they all treated him like he was going to break any second. 

He wanted things to be normal again. All six of them joking around and teasing each other, not pretending like one of them would drop dead any second. Richie was the worst. Eddie didn’t think he had ever seen his husband be so nice to him. He hadn’t said a single mom joke since he woke up. 

Eddie got it; he really did. They all watched him practically die. He had died, apparently. They had to shock him awake more than once. But that wasn’t important. He got that they were scared, that they were worried this was all a fever dream, but Eddie couldn’t stand it. 

His entire life he had been considered weak. Even with Richie by his side, making him feel braver than he really was, Eddie had kept that feeling to himself. His mom convinced him he needed to be taken care of, that he was something that needed to be sheltered. He had started to get over that, had established himself as strong. But being back in Derry made all those old feelings crash back down onto him. 

He wanted to feel in control again. 

Him and Bev were sitting in front of the window in the commons room. It wasn’t a pretty sight outside, the sky was a dull grey and rain was pelting the ground, but Eddie longed to be out there. To breath fresh air, to feel the cold wind on his skin. 

He wouldn’t get that for a while. 

The doctors said he still needed to be monitored for at least two more weeks, then he could be free to go with by-weekly checkups for at least three more months. Eddie hated to say it, but it felt too short. He wanted out of the hospital of his nightmares, but he didn’t want to die. He remembered the pain, the fear of almost dying. He didn’t want to walk- wheel out of this place only to drop dead once again from some sort of infection. What if he got a staph infection? How do you amputate a fucking chest? 

He needed to stop thinking. 

“How long till you have to leave?” He asked Bev, who was attempting a crossword puzzle. The day before it was Sudoku, which Eddie thinks is lying in pieces in the garbage by now. 

“I have as much time as we need,” Bev said firmly, and it was the same reply she had given Eddie every time he asked. 

“You have a life Beverly,” Eddie scolded. “You don’t have to stay in this shithole just for me.” 

“Eddie,” She sighed, putting the book and her pen down. “We’ve been over this.” 

“I know,” He said, cutting off her lecture. “But my point still stands. How long until your company needs you? How long until you need to actually show up in court to divorce your piece of shit husband? You and Ben deserve to be on some nice beach somewhere making up for lost time, not sitting here looking after me. You can’t just put your life on hold cause I got skewered.” 

Beverly sighed, biting her lip and staring out the window, her eyes attempting to track the falling rain. 

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this Eddie,” She said ever so softly. “I’m your friend. We all are. Ben, Bill, Mike and I, we’re not leaving you here to recover. You saved our lives, the least we can do is be here for you.” 

“I didn’t save your lives,” Eddie muttered, pointedly not looking over at her. 

“Yes, you did.” She argued. 

“No, I didn’t,” He snapped unfairly. “I just almost got myself killed like an idiot.” 

“Eddie,” Beverly said lowly, her hand reaching out and grabbing his chin, forcing him to look over at her. “You told us how to kill it, you saved Richie, and we almost left you there. We almost left you there to die.” 

“I don’t need your pity,” He snapped, hands curling into fists again. He hated how easily he got mad, but he just couldn’t help it. “I hate the way you all look like I’m going to fall apart if you guys look away for two seconds, I’m so fucking sick of everyone thinking I’m too weak for this.” 

Beverly was silent for a long time, and Eddie refused to look over at her, instead staring at the bleak streets. There was a kid playing outside, her right pink rain jacket standing out in the dreary surroundings. 

“Okay,” Beverly said finally. “I know you’re not weak Eddie. You’re the bravest person I know. But every time I see you, all I can see is your body sitting in that cistern, looking dead.” 

He flinched at her bluntness, but he was secretly glad for it. Beverly never sugar-coated anything, always told him how it was. 

“And this had been hard for all of us, and we need to move past it. And the only way we can do that is by being here, helping you and Richie, helping ourselves. If we left it would just be another cycle of repression, of forgetting, of pretending that everything is fine. We need to be here Eddie, if not for you than for ourselves.” 

“What if I don’t want you here?” He countered weakly, despite knowing that he would never send them away. 

“Then you can suck it up because none of us are going anywhere until you can leave with us.” She said firmly. “Us losers stick together and you need to just accept that okay?” 

“Fine,” He huffed, crossing his arms. Beverly didn’t let him pout for long though, her head falling onto his shoulder. 

“I love you Eds,” She said softly. 

“I love you too Bev.” 

_______________________________________

Mike brought Monopoly into the hospital room. 

It was the worst idea Eddie thinks the Librarian has ever had, but he was down for it either way. 

The message seemed to get out after his talk with Bev, and most of the losers were treating him like normal again, and this just solidified it. Within ten minutes Richie had already been accused of cheating twice, Ben was dominating half the board, and Mike and Bill were in some sort of passive-aggressive property war with each other. 

Eddie had never been happier. 

Three separate nurses had warned them to be quiet, and one had even threatened to throw them out, but she was grinning the entire time so Eddie figured they weren’t in that much trouble. 

He hadn’t laughed this much since the whole It fight, and he felt almost high, snuggled beside Richie, cheating as much as he could and cackling when everyone thought Richie was the one doing it. 

The spell was broken when Mike’s phone began to ring. 

He frowned at the number, excusing himself and walking to the corner of the room as if they weren’t all going to listen in no matter what. 

“Hello?” Mike said, his voice unusually guarded. He was silent for a long moment. “If you are fucking with me, it’s a really shitty thing to do.” 

All the losers were staring at him now, and Eddie felt the stirring of something in his gut, something he couldn’t quite understand. 

“Do you have skype?” Mike suddenly asked. “No offense but I won’t believe you till I see it with my own two eyes.” 

Mike was suddenly rambling off his skype username, clicking the hang-up button on his phone and turning back, a slightly queasy look on his face. 

“Who w-was it?” Bill asked, reaching out and resting his hand on Mike’s arm. 

“He’s going to video call us,” Mike said faintly, like he was waking up from a bad dream. 

He turned to his bag and pulled out his laptop, quickly logging in and they all sat waiting, the tension thick even though Mike won’t reveal who the mystery caller is. 

A little under a minute later, the sound of a ringtone indicated an incoming call. Richie’s grip on Eddie’s arm became a bit tighter, and Eddie had the sudden urge to sit up more, loom more presentable than how he did at the moment. 

Mike muttered a soft prayer under his breath, and his fingers dragged the cursor over to the accept button and clicked. 

Stan’s face filled the monitor. 

“Um,” Their friend said, blinking as a smile crept over his face. “Hi?” 

________________________________________

Richie was the first one to gain enough bearing to talk. 

“Hi,” He replied, blinking. He wasn’t sure what to think, his mind is running a thousand miles per hour. “Hi Stan, um, what the fuck?” 

Stan only grins at him, a laugh bubbling out of his lips. 

“You assholes aren’t dead,” Stan says, and Richie is speechless for the first time in his life. Well, that a lie, but it’s like the third time at most. 

“I can say the same thing about you,” Beverly says, and her eyes are filled with tears. “Stan, what’s going on? You were-“ 

She cuts herself off with a sob, and Ben absent mindedly pulls her loser to himself. 

“Yeah, about that,” Stan says, flinching slightly. Richie almost cries right there, because this was Stan speaking. Stan who looked just like when he was young, with the same curly hair and mannerisms. Stan who was _alive_. “Rumors of my death were a bit dramatized.” 

They were all talking at once, voice overlapping each other. 

“How?” 

“But you-“ 

“This can’t be possible-“ 

“I am so fucking glad to see you.” 

“You asshole!” 

“Okay!” Bill says, his voice rising above all of theirs. “Let’s calm down for a minute. Stan, tell us everything.” 

“Well,” Stan suddenly looks a lot more guarded. “I tried to kill myself.” 

Everyone went silent. Stan scratched at his head, and Richie catches sight of the white bandages adorning his arms. It makes something inside him ache. 

“I went into a coma,” Stan continued. “The doctors said I wouldn’t recover, I did. I woke up two days ago.” 

“Well,” Richie said, his lips moving almost without his permission. “You missed all the fun down here.” 

“Something tells me I didn’t,” Stan said dryly, suddenly looking very afraid. “Is It dead?” 

“Yeah,” Ben breaths, shaking his head. “Yeah, we killed it.” 

“Oh, okay.” Stan nodded, his expression falling for a single second before reconstructing itself. “That’s good. Good job.” 

There was an awkward silence. 

“Oh,” Stan said, smiling sheepishly. “There may be some letters coming to you, uh, don’t read them? They were for when I died, which I didn’t, so they’re kind of just embarrassing now.”

“I’m hanging it on my wall,” Richie blurted out. “Just to spite you.” 

Stan frowned, that same annoyed look that Richie missed so much. 

“Please don’t,” Stan sighed. “I told Patty only to send them if I was dead, and she kind of jumped the gun on that.” 

There was a muffled protest in the background. 

“Yeah,” Bev laughed. “In her defense she sounded like she really thought you were dead.” 

They all remembered the phone call from the beginning of the trip, her heartbroken voice telling them he was dead. 

“Yeah, she seemed a bit eager to jump on the ‘my husband is dead’ bout,” He says with a grin, and he’s looking at someone off the camera. “I think she wanted to collect my life insurance early-“ 

He’s cut off by a pillow being thrown at his head, and someone else was joining his face in the screen, a lady with shoulder-length brown hair and annoyed look on her face. 

“You said you wouldn’t tease me about it,” She lecturing and Richie knows this isn’t their first time having this conversation. “It was very traumatizing for me Stanley and please excuse me if I thought my husband was dead you-“ 

“Okay! Okay!” Stan says, but he’s laughing and Richie’s heart sours at the pure joy of seeing that smile again. “We get it Patty.” 

Patty suddenly remembers there are other people there and she blushed red as she looks over at them. 

“Hi,” She says meekly. “It’s nice to meet you all?” 

Beverly smiles at her, and no one really knows what to say. 

“I am so glad you’re not dead,” Richie says, his voice shaking slightly. “But I am still obligated to call you an asshole you asshole.”

“Yeah, I deserve that,” Stan flinches. “I’m so sorry, I was just so scared and I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it back and-“ 

“Hey,” Ben cuts in smoothly, his voice calm. “We get it Stan.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Bill said, smiling softly. “It’s over now, we c-can all rest.” 

Stan leans back, and Richie is suddenly aware that’s he’s in a hospital too, looking tired and worn out and old just like the rest of them.

“We should meet up,” He blurts out, and everyone’s turning to stare at him. “You know, when everyone’s better. Somewhere nice, outside of Derry. Meet up, talk about our lives, that kind of shit.” He shrugged. “You know, like normal friends do.” 

“Yeah,” Stan breathed out, and for a second Richie thought he was going to cry. “Yeah I would really like that. I miss you guys.” 

“We miss you too Stan the man,” Beverly said, and she’s smiling so softly and for a second everything feels okay. 

Eddie was alive, pressed against their side with their fingers intertwined. Stan was somehow alive too, on the other side of the screen looking tired and worn out but overall healthy and happy and Richie wanted to cry. 

The seven of them were back together, all of them fine and alive and that bastard of a clown was dead. 

“Hey,” Stan suddenly said, and he was frowning at them. “Are you guys in a hospital?” 

“Um,” Eddie said, blinking sheepishly. “Yeah?” 

“What happened?” Stan said, sitting up and Patty followed him, her hands steadying him. “Is everything okay? Is everyone good?” 

“It’s fine,” Eddie soothed. “I just-“ 

“Eddie got shish kebabbed.” Richie interrupted him, and everyone turned to stare at him. 

“Really?” Eddie asked in that long-suffering way of his. “That’s how you want to put it you asshole? Shish kebabbed?” 

“It was a spur of the moment thing man, I thought it was accurate.” 

“I almost _died_ and you summarize it by saying that? You couldn’t have said it any other way other than implying that I am a hunk of meat on a stick?” 

“I mean, you are a hunk of meat.” 

“I will kill you.” 

“It’s nice to see that nothing has changed,” Stan cut in, that twinkle in his eyes the same as it was when they were 14. “Have you two actually sorted out all your shit yet?” 

“We did!” Richie gasped, lifting up their entwined hands, their rings twinkling on their fingers. “I did it Stan! I chained him down!” 

“Shut up,” Eddie groaned, but he looked amused so Richie figured he was fine. 

“I wish I was there with you guys,” Stan said quietly, the smile on his face fading. 

“Hey,” Richie scolded. “No thinking like that. In like, two weeks we can leave this place and we can meet up at whatever cheesy restaurant you want to eat at and then you will severally regret ever wanting to see me again.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” Stan said dryly, and Richie grinned, caught up in the euphoria of his best friend being alive. 

They all fell into their normal rhythm, catching Stan up with everything that happened and Richie zoned out, staring down at Eddie who had a smile on his face. He looked almost happy, happier than he had in ages. He looked up, catching Richie’s eyes and Richie realized he was happy too. 

He leaned down and kissed Eddie, his hand cupping his cheek and he smiled onto his husband’s lips as he heard Stan pretending to gag from the screen. 

For the first time since they got that call from Mike, Richie knew that everything was going to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go after this!!


	12. Just to sit outside your door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot shorter than all the others, and that's because I'm still sick and wanted to post something for you guys. But seriously, this story has been such a wild ride and I am almost sad to see it go. But I had fun writing for you guys and your support meant so much to me! So thank you so much for all your comments and kudos, they meant a lot! I hope you guys enjoy the conclusion.

  
“Do they know this building isn’t up to date with the ADA?” Eddie rolled his eyes, pushing his chair closer to the wall of the elevator. “We could sue them for this. It’s frankly ridiculous, first no ramp when we show up, then refusing to move us to a first-floor room, and then the elevator being ridiculous like this?” 

“Richie sweetheart,” Eddie sighed, cutting off his husband's ranting. “It’s fine.” 

“No it isn’t,” Richie complained. “You’re mad too I can sense it.” 

“You can sense it.” 

“With my special Eds Sensing Equipment, although normally it only goes off when I’m talking.” 

“Sounds about right,” Eddie said, grinning despite himself. “I would normally be pissed at this, but I’m just too excited.” 

“I know right?” Richie said, his before mood dissipating as he smiled like a kid at Christmas. “It’s been months and I am practically vibrating with excitement.” 

“You said the same thing about buying those cinnamon buns earlier.” 

“My statement for both stands. Those were really fucking good cinnamon buns.” 

Eddie laughed as the elevator dinged, and he grabbed ahold of the wheel to his chair, pushing himself forwards. Richie easily walked beside him, already used to the pace Eddie set. 

It had been six months since he had been released from the hospital. Life had slowly moved on since then. 

It was hard, especially at first, to adjust to his new situation. Simply tasks like getting out of bed, brushing his teeth, taking showers, all it was different, difficult. They ended up moving a month after it happened, Ben himself sending some of his workers to renovate their new place to be fully accessible to him. Eddie was endlessly grateful. 

Life was slightly easier after that. But it wasn’t perfect. 

It was a maze of setbacks and steps forwards, a constant dance of getting better only to fall seconds later. Eddie missed his legs, missed the ability to move and walk around like everyone else. 

He had to quit his job as a driver for his limousine company, his boss taking pity on him and letting him take a less physical role in the company. Somehow, that managed to work out for him, paying better and allowing him to leave his job as a risk analysis. He mostly just coordinating driving and handled phone calls, which wasn’t the worst. Still, he missed driving around town, the freedom driving his car gave him. 

Another highlight of his day that he missed was taking Katz for walks. He used to do it twice daily, once before work and once in the afternoon. He could still sometimes take him for walks, wheeling himself around while Katz either lounged on his lap or wandered in front of him, but it wasn’t as nice as it used to be. 

He missed going to the gym, going for runs, simply just walking around the house when bored. 

Life was lackluster without it, and sometimes he found himself falling into funks because of it. 

Lucky for him, he had Richie to pull him out of all of them. Their relationship was a bit rocky at first, with Richie practically smothering him at all times during the day, but once they got past that it was almost nice. 

Richie was willing to wait for him, not matter how long it took for him to get ready, Richie was the one to get him out of the funks when he fell into them, who proved that even without the use of his legs Eddie was the same person. 

Pennywise took so much form them, had left them both slightly traumatized and afraid of everyday things, but they were stronger because of it. Eddie may not be able to walk or move his waist anymore, but slowly he was realizing that maybe it wasn’t a curse like he thought it was. Maybe it was a show of his strength, a physical reminder of everything he overcame. 

Either way, he was learning how to live with it. And that was enough for him. 

“Do you think Ben and Bev will enounce their engagement tonight?” Richie asked, tossing their two suitcases on the bed. Eddie tried not to complain about how high up the beds would. He would go complain later, after they got situated and had seen the others. 

“I think they’re already married if I’m being honest,” Eddie said, throwing his own small toiletry bag onto the bed. “What time is dinner again?” He asked, looking over tot eh clock. They had gotten a late flight, so it was around five already. 

“I think at six, and the restaurant almost twenty minutes away so it should leave us with like forty minutes. That should be enough time for you to get your hair done at least.” Richie said. 

“Thanks,” He replied dryly. “Maybe it’ll give you enough time to pick out an outfit that doesn’t look like you picked it out of a dumpster.” 

“Hey!” Richie exclaimed. “I look hot today.” 

“You always look hot,” Eddie grumbled grabbing Richie’s hand and tugging him into a kiss. “I’m so lucky to have such a smoking hot husband.” 

“You’re only here for the money,” Richie said softly, his hand running through Eddie’s hair. “You’re the trophy husband babe.” 

“Sometimes I think I make more money than you do,” He said dryly. 

“Oh come on, that Netflix special had a pretty big paycheck,” Richie said, his head leaning on Eddie’s shoulder. Another thing that had recently been a thing, Richie had apparently started to enjoy sitting on Eddie’s lap, and loved Eddie returning the favor whenever he could. Eddie wouldn't lie and say he hated when his husband pulled him on top of him when they were watching a movie or eating dinner on the couch, their bodies pressed together. 

“Oh yeah, you got paid big bucks to make gay jokes and crack shots about our sex life,” Eddie said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Go get ready. I’ll need extra time since I’m sure the counter height is way too high for me.” 

“Shouldn’t have been born that short then,” Richie said, although his voice was dark. Eddie knew he was still pissed about the absolute shitty management in this place. 

“I’m average asshole,” Eddie snapped without any heat, wheeling off to the bathroom. 

“Hey Eds?” Richie asked as he followed him into the small bathroom. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

They shared a smile, the kind of smile that only came after living with someone for so many years that you knew the ins and out of every aspect of them. The kind of smile that only occurred in moments of pure bliss and understanding. 

Tonight was going to be a good night.

________________________________

Stan was the one who picked the restaurant. They had decided to go down to Florida, where Bill and Mike were currently living. Stan and Patty went down there a week before everyone else to help them get settled. 

Beverly had divorced her husband swiftly, even though he put up a fight while attempting to label _her_ as the abuser. Multiple witness statements and evidence quickly proved that otherwise. Her and Ben were living comfortably at one of his million-dollar mansions, going on cruises throughout the months. 

Bill and Audra had reluctantly divorced, both of them working out their feelings for each other and deciding to stay platonic, the two of them staying connected despite the distance. Turns out, Audra was now dating one of her co-stars and best friends, if the tabloid were to be trusted. Bill and Mike had moved in together, and Eddie had no idea what was up with that but it felt right either way. 

And now here they were, six months after defeating their childhood demon, final meeting up again to catch up in a way much more substantial than phone calls and text messaging. 

But it started with Stan picking the restaurant. He went with some fancy Italian place, them all agreeing never to go to another Chinese restaurant again. Eddie hadn’t been able to bring himself to pick up a chopstick since that one occurrence. But it was fine, he never liked it that much either way. 

The restaurant didn’t have a ramp, which honestly was a common occurrence lately. Eddie never noticed how many places weren’t wheelchair accessible until he was in a wheelchair himself. 

Once they actually got into the restaurant, it wasn’t hard to find their friends. They could hear them from across the restaurant, Bill laughing loudly at something someone else said. He sounding like he was already tipsy. Which was fair, Eddie wanted to get tipsy too. 

When they made it to the special side place reserved just for them, the room burst into sound. 

“Richie! Eddie!” Everyone yelled at once. 

Instantly Richie was at Stan’s side, hugging him tightly from where the man was only half standing, laughing as he hugged Richie tightly back. 

Eddie had to hold back the surge of emotions overcoming him, he and Stan had been talking a lot ever since they both got out of the hospital, but nothing could compare to finally seeing his friend in the flesh again. 

Eddie wheeled up to the table, hugging Bev and Ben tightly, greeting Patty with a nice handshake. She looked a little lost, but she was handling it like a trooper. He had talked to her more than once before, while Stan and Richie were off arguing over some random thing the two of them would talk, he was happy to be able to call her a friend. 

“So Mike,” He asked, leaning across to smile at his friend. “Florida everything you dreamed it being?” 

“It’s wonderful,” Mike gushed. “Although I think anywhere would have been better than Maine.” 

“I still find it a crime that you think Florida is a good state Mikey,” Richie butt in, taking his seat beside Eddie, his hand resting on his shoulder. “It’s filled with cracked headed alligators.” 

“That’s why Mike fits in so well,” Bev said with a sugary sweet smile. Mike crumpled up a napkin and threw it at her as the table fell into laugher. 

“How are you holding up Eddie?” Bill asked softly at his side, lowering his voice so the two of them could have a private conversation. “Better than our last call?” 

Eddie blushed bright red while thinking about it. He was at a low point, Richie traveling on tour for the first time since they got back. He had stupidly gotten drunk, then proceeded to fall out of his chair, calling the first person on his contact list, who happened to be Bill. Bill was the one who had to calm him down from a crying fit at 3 am, getting him to sober up enough that he was able to call Lindsay for help getting up. It was embarrassing, but Bill had handled it with grace. Eddie was extremely thankful for that. 

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, smiling over at him. “I’ve started my new job, and I’m really enjoying it.” 

“That’s great!” Bill said, clapping him on his shoulder. “Have you started reading the book I sent you yet?” 

“Of course I have,” Eddie scoffed. “It’s amazing.” 

“Did the ending suck?” Bill asked, poking fun at himself. 

“Surprisingly no,” Eddie said, grinning. “I liked the part where taw two main characters revealed they were married the entire time.” 

Bill’s cheeks stained red as he grinned, his teeth shining slightly in the light. “I took inspiration from my two favorite gays,” He said, reaching over to pinch Richie’s arms. 

“Hey!” Richie cried, pulled from his conversation with Ben. “Did I hear the word gay? What are you saying about my husband? He’s obviously the gay on in this relationship.” 

“You are literally hanging onto him at this moment like a clingy koala,” Ben pointed out, his own arm around Bev’s shoulders. 

“That’s beside the point,” Richie said, his arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders going tighter almost in protest. “I’m 100% straight.” 

“Are you know?” Eddie asked, leaning closer to him, their lips dangerously close. “Guess someone won’t be getting his goodnight kiss tonight.” 

He leaned away before Richie could kiss him, smiling smugly at the desolate cry his husband gave out. 

“You don’t play fair Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie pouted, his arm still firmly around his shoulders. “You just don’t play fair.” 

“That’s not my name.” 

“That’s what’s on the marriage certificate, Edward Spaghetti Tozier.” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie said, reaching forwards and taking a long sip from the wine in the glass in front of him. He’s pretty sure it’s Bill’s. 

The night progressed easily after that, all of them falling back into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. It was impossible to think that they had twenty-seven years of absence between them, twenty-seven years of not remembering each other at all. 

Eddie glanced over at his husband, who was trying his best to stuff three meatballs into his mouth, and somehow all he felt was content. And I little disgusted, but that was beside the point. 

Pennywise had tried to take everything from them. The clown had terrorized them as children, had almost killed Stan, almost killed him, but here they were, stronger than before. They didn’t let It get them, didn’t let It tear them apart. 

They proved to be stronger than that, proved that they could overcome anything that came their way. Even a multidimensional shapeshifting space clown. And wasn’t’ that the weirdest thing in the world. 

He raised his own glass, clinking his fork against it to call attention. 

“To the Loser’s club,” He said, smiling around the table. 

Bill, his best friend since kindergarten. Who had always been there for him, who was the hero Eddie looked up to as a child. The boy who never lied to him, who trusted him and who Eddie knew would never let him down.

Mike, strong, kind, and wonderful Mike. Who stayed behind when no one else would. Who braved a lifetime of ignoring his own dreams to make sure others wouldn’t die. The man that always knew what to say and when to say it. 

Bev, the bravest person he ever met. Who never gave up and helped prove to Eddie that if he believed hard enough, he could make anything happen. The woman who had overcome so much and still managed to love just as fiercely as she did as a child.

Ben, sweet little Ben who never gave up on his friends, who loved all of them so fiercely Eddie thought he would combust with it. Ben who never gave up on the idea that even if he was alone, he would work his hardest to make sure everyone around him remained happy and satisfied. Who accepted Eddie no matter what. 

Stan, who everyone said was a coward, yet Eddie thinks he may be one of the bravest of them all. Who stared fear in the eyes and could admit to himself that sometimes he couldn’t handle it alone, who learned how to reach out to others for support and love. Who had faced fear and high expectations and yet still marched into that sewer as a child to save his friend.

And finally Richie. The love of his life, his husband, his soul mate. Who made every day of his life so much better, who completed Eddie in a way that no one else could. Who taught him that he could be brave, that he was not as fragile as people wanted him to believe. Richie who taught him what love was, and who Eddie knew he would grow old with. 

He loved them all more than he could express. More than he could even express to himself. His love for them went outside normal bounds of human interaction, went beyond anything he had ever known or felt before. Together they were the Loser’s club, the people who helped him adjust to life without walking, who taught him braver, taught him love and acceptance. 

“I love you guys so much,” He whispered and they all raised his glass towards him, their eyes shining with the same tears he knew clouded his own. 

There was no need to say anything more. 

Their glasses clicked together, and as Richie squeezed his hand under the table, the two of them smiling over at each other, Eddie knew that this was everything his life was meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Thank you so much for reading this craziness!

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment telling me what you think! Any feedback is welcomed!!!


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